After Hours
by maddiemarch
Summary: The evolution of a romantic relationship between Goren and Eames told through a series of post eps to Season 4.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N – Here's the first of what I hope will be a series of post eps, one for each episode of Season 4, which will depict the development of a romantic relationship between Goren and Eames. If you aren't a B/A shipper, you likely won't enjoy. I'm new to watching L&O CI, but I love it. I hope I do the characters justice. Reviews are appreciated, good or bad. Obviously I own nothing. All characters are the property of Dick Wolf._

**Chapter 1 – Semi – Detached**

"I didn't mean for you to see it."

His words haunted Alex long after they left the Carlson residence. They swirled in the eddy of her mind while Nelda was processed and lingered even after she and Bobby returned to their desks to officially close the case. Normally efficient with paperwork, the words had filled Alex's pen with lead and made each stroke laborious.

What had he meant? Individually, each word was simple and clear. Together . . . well, that was more complicated.

Had he really come to care for Nelda as she insisted? Had he honestly fallen for the perp? Or was it all an act, his words an expression of the guilt he felt for leading her on? Like she had told the Captain, it wasn't the first time she had seen Bobby play a suspect. He was an affable flirt, skilled at befriending the unsuspecting and using rapport to unravel them. But something about this one . . . something was different. Something about the way he looked at Nelda and talked to her had given birth to an uncomfortable knot in the pit of Alex's stomach - a knot that had formed for reasons she wasn't ready to explore.

_Focus_.

Returning her attention to the report in front of her, Alex realized she had written the same sentence three times. With a frustrated sigh, she threw her pen down on the desk. It skipped off her blotter and skidded across Bobby's desk before dropping into his empty chair. The detectives working the night shift around her didn't even look up. It certainly wasn't the first time there had been an unexpected outburst from that particular pair of desks.

She had obviously been working with Bobby far too long. Now she was behaving like him.

Chair legs scraping against the floor, Alex pushed back from her desk. Jamming the final report into her "To Do" box, she grabbed her coat off the rack. The rest was going to have to wait until Monday.

* * *

"Eames! Wait up."

He caught up with her as she trotted down the steps toward the parking garage.

With an internal groan that threatened to go external, Alex halted abruptly on the steps, jingling her keys impatiently. Right now, Bobby was the last person she had any desire to see. All she wanted to do was go home, open the bottle of bourbon she had purchased last week as an expensive treat, and silence the endless loop of his words in her mind.

"I didn't realize you were still here," Alex mumbled when he finally caught up with her, huffing from his sprint down the stairs.

Tugging at his tie, Bobby nodded in the direction of the precinct. "I was on the third floor, doing some consulting with one of my homicide buddies. What are you still doing here? I thought you would have wrapped up your paperwork hours ago."

"Yeah, so did I." A soft breeze ruffled her hair, and Alex had to free a strand that got stuck to her bottom lip. "Look, I'm done for the night. I'll see you Monday, okay?"

As she turned to leave, Bobby reached out, stopping himself just before he snagged the sleeve of her coat. "Uh, could I get a ride? My car is at the mechanics. Don't feel like the hassle of hailing a cab on a Friday night."

Biting the inside of her cheek, Alex stifled a sigh. His apartment wasn't significantly out of the way, but the prospect of being cooped up in a car with him for even a minute was not an attractive one at the moment. Still, she couldn't very well say no without a reason, and the only reason she had was sure not one she wanted to talk about.

"Of course. No problem."

* * *

If she had ever participated in a more awkward car ride, she couldn't remember it. Bobby's apartment was only 20 minutes away from the precinct, but the time seemed to stretch out interminably. The radio was playing an 80's rock ballad at medium volume, but the silence between them was still painfully obvious. Neither of them was a chatterer under normal circumstances, but even a casual observer would notice that the dynamic was off. Out of the corner of her eye, Alex could see Bobby glancing over at her occasionally, but she kept her gaze locked on the sea of taillights ahead.

They were less than five blocks away from his apartment when he finally broke the silence. "Something wrong Eames?"

"No." Her tone was completely unconvincing, even to her own ears, but Bobby only nodded and returned his gaze to the scenery outside the passenger side window. Frustrated at her inability to appear nonchalant, Alex drummed her fingers sharply on the steering wheel.

After another few minutes, in which they had progressed less than a block, he tried again. "Are you sure? You don't seem like yourself."

Alex remained silent for a long moment, biting her lip and searching for a way to broach the topic and loosen the knot in her stomach without betraying just how much thought she had been giving to the subject of Nelda.

"I'm just getting a little tired of having to defend you to the Captain Bobby."

Seemingly surprised by that response, Bobby squinted at her, cocking his head slightly to the side. "What do you mean?"

"He questioned your objectivity in the Nelda Carlson case. He thought you were getting too personally involved. That you actually had feelings for her." The latter part was her opinion, not the Captain's, but Bobby didn't need to know that.

Bobby's face remained inscrutable. "What did you say?"

Alex shrugged. "That you were just playing her. But to be honest Bobby, I'm not exactly convinced of that myself."

She had been expecting a denial that didn't come. Instead Bobby said nothing, his gaze returning to the passenger side scenery. As the car crept forward through another light, he wound down his window and let in a cool breeze.

His unanticipated silence made the knot in her stomach expand. "So he was right, and so was Nelda. You did care for her."

Bobby twisted his hands together as he often did when deep in thought, but avoided her now steady gaze. "I was attracted to her, yes. Maybe even more so to the idea of her. To the idea of having someone who looked at me with the same passion that Nelda had when she looked at her ex-husband."

"Bobby, that was a little too much passion. Nelda Carlson is twisted."

With an acquiescent tilt of his head, Bobby nodded in the direction of the road. "Light's green."

Reflexively Alex jerked her gaze back to the road and stepped hard on the gas just as the car behind bleated its horn. The SUV shot forward, but the conversation died in its tracks. When Bobby fell silent again, she couldn't help herself. She pushed him.

"So that's your type huh? I've always wondered. Dependent and unstable."

When she rehearsed the line in her head, it had sounded joking. When it actually slipped out of her mouth, it was coated in bitterness. She could tell by the way the skin tightened at the corner of his eyes that Bobby hadn't missed the hostility, but he kept his voice low and steady, which irritated her even more. Damn him for being calm even in the face of her rudeness.

"I like to be needed, yes. I have a soft spot for women who need protection, definitely. But that doesn't describe my 'type'. That's not really what I'm attracted to."

Pulling to the curb by Bobby's apartment, Alex shoved the car into park rougher than was necessary. "It doesn't matter. I'm sorry I brought it up."

Bobby unbuckled his seatbelt but sat staring at her with unwavering eyes. "So why did you bring it up?"

"Because I thought you had more sense than to get personally involved with a perp," Alex muttered, folding her slender arms across her chest. "Christ Bobby."

A shadow flitted across his handsome face. "You are blowing this out of proportion. Nothing happened between me and Nelda, nothing physical anyway. Everything I did was to solve the case. I know my boundaries."

Alex shook her head. "See, that's the problem with you Bobby. I never know what's real, and what's just a game."

It was a low blow, and she knew it. From the flash of hurt that registered in his eyes, so did he.

Bobby opened his mouth to respond, closed it, and then opened it again. When his vocal cords failed to come through for him the second time, he wrenched open his door, slid out of the seat, and slammed it behind him. He had only made it a few feet away when he abruptly turned and stomped back to the SUV, finger wagging in typical Bobby Goren fashion.

"You want me to be real Eames? Okay, I can be real with you. No more games. You want to know my type? Here goes." Leaning into the SUV through the open passenger side window, Bobby started ticking off criteria on his fingers. "Intelligent, driven, confident, and loyal with a dry sense of humor that never fails to make me smile. Slender, blonde, beautiful inside and outside. Amazing smile. Sound familiar, or are you going to make me spell it out? YOU are my type Eames."

Stunned, Alex slumped back in her seat, folding in on herself like a deflated balloon. As she struggled to find the words to respond to that admission, Bobby drew a deep breath and scrubbed a hand over his face. She could see the energy drain from his features and the passion that had fueled his indignity seconds earlier begin to fade. She had to fight the urge to reach across the seat and cup his face.

As if sensing this desire, Bobby lifted his eyes to meet hers and reached out in his own way, with words. "I'd like to take you out sometime."

With that statement, the knot in her stomach dissipated and was replaced with first a flutter of anticipation and then a twinge of sadness that she forced herself to quell. "Bobby, I'm very flattered, but we ca-"

He held up his hand to silence her. "I know. You're right. We're partners, and I never want to jeopardize that. You are the only person in this world who believes in me Alex. I just want you to know, that if the situation were different, I would ask you out in a heartbeat."

Straightening, Bobby stepped back from the vehicle. A soft icy rain had begun to fall, and light from the streetlamp danced in the drops in his curly hair. He turned and glanced up at his building before returning his gaze briefly to her. "Goodnight Eames."

Bobby had made it halfway up the walk before Alex finally found her voice and called out his name. He turned to look at her, but his face was cloaked in a shadow that made his reaction to her parting words impossible to discern.

"I just want you to know, that if the situation were different, I would've said yes."


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N – Thanks to everyone who read and those who reviewed. I hope you continue to enjoy!_

**Chapter 2 – The Posthumous Collection**

It wasn't a date. At least that was what she kept telling herself.

This certainly wasn't the first time she had ever been at a bar with Bobby. It was a common occurrence after a difficult case like the Gerhardt Heltman murder. At least she had found that case difficult. His photographs were still haunting her dreams. No, it wasn't that being at a bar with Bobby was anything new. It was just that this time, something felt . . . . different.

It could have been the fact that she had actually gotten dressed up. Normally they went out straight after work, when she felt bedraggled, physically, mentally, and emotionally. Today, she had been able to prepare. She had spent way more time than she cared to admit in front of the mirror, modeling multiple outfits before finally settling on a blouse and a knee-length corduroy skirt. She completed the ensemble with a pair of tall black boots that she had only had occasion to wear once before. She had even put on makeup and styled her hair. She was trying to grow it out, and it was in that awkward in-between stage that drove her crazy.

No, it wasn't even all the prep work that suggested that this particular evening was different. It was the fact that she was actually nervous. Really nervous. As she sat alone at the scarred wooden table, a light sweat lingered on her collarbone and her stomach flip-flopped with abandon. The popular Brooklyn bar was starting to fill up with young, beautiful people, and oxygen was becoming a scarce commodity. Alex had to draw a deep breath to steady the quiver in her hands.

_Get a grip._

He hadn't called it a date, and it wasn't. He had just asked her if she wanted to catch the Rudolph Belarski Exhibit at the Brooklyn Museum of Art, the one he had alluded to while they scoped out Spencer Farnell on Columbus Avenue. It wasn't something she was typically interested in, but she had agreed and, despite her reservations, had actually enjoyed herself. Bobby had been in his element, enthusiastically regaling her with stories from the detective comics he had read as a child. He never failed to amaze her with the sheer amount of knowledge he possessed on a wide variety of topics.

She had been completely engrossed, not just in his stories, but in the way his face lit up as he conveyed them. In moments like that, she couldn't help but wonder what he must have been like as a child, before life had dealt its harsh blows. How different would he have been if his father hadn't been a louse and his mother hadn't gotten sick? In truth, she couldn't imagine him any other way, wouldn't want him any other way. She just wished he hadn't had to endure so much pain to become the man she knew and . . . cared for.

"_Stop it_," the little voice in her head chimed in. "_Nothing good will come of getting too close"_.

She knew that, she did. That is why this was definitely NOT a date, regardless of how long she had taken to get ready and how nervous she was. Under any other circumstances, the thought that it could be something more would never have occurred to her. But after the other night . . .

"_I'd like to take you out sometime."_

Well, after that, she hadn't been able to think about anything else.

* * *

It wasn't a date. At least that was what he kept telling himself.

It was completely normal after a difficult case for them to hit up a bar for a drink. They had done it many times before. No, this was definitely not the first time he had been in a bar with Alex. It was just this time, something felt . . . . different.

It could have been the fact that he had actually put some thought into his appearance. Normally he was rumpled, stale after a long day at work. Today, he had showered and shaved and spent way more time than usual in front of the mirror. Everything he put on seemed to highlight the growing belly that he couldn't get rid of. He really needed to get back to the gym. He had finally settled on a pair of khakis and a blue dress shirt with beige loafers. He wasn't thrilled with the final product, especially after he saw her, standing on the museum steps. She looked beautiful - fit and young. He looked like her father. Beauty and the beast.

He was ridiculously nervous. As he hovered around the bar, trying to catch the attention of the bartender, pools of sweat were forming under his arms. He cursed the decision to leave his suit jacket at home. The worst part was that the more nervous he became, the more eccentric he acted. He knew that. Remembering their afternoon at the museum, he kicked himself. He had talked way too much, blathering on about things he knew she couldn't care less about. He just couldn't seem to stop himself. She must have been ready to bolt, but she endured it with her characteristic class, pretending to be interested. That just made him feel worse.

Of course, it might not have been so awkward had he not opened his big mouth a few days before.

"_I'd like to take you out sometime."_

Bobby cringed as the scene replayed in his mind. What had he been thinking? He was completely out of line. She was his partner. The policies around that were very clear, and though he wasn't exactly known for conformity, Alex would never cross that line and put their jobs at risk. Even if the situation had been different, and asking her out had been appropriate, could he not have thought of a better line? Stupid, stupid, stupid. He had never claimed to be smooth with women, but that was even worse than normal.

"_That's because she's completely out of your league_," a little voice in his head piped up. "_Nothing good will come of getting too close"_.

"What can I get for you buddy?"

The bartender finally sidled up to him, interrupting his thoughts. Giving his head a quick shake to clear it, Bobby placed his order for two beers. Paying and nodding his thanks to the bartender, he grabbed the cold pilsner glasses and turned, scanning the crowd for Alex, who had gone off in search of a table. When he finally caught sight of her, his heart sank. She had found a table all right, and had been joined there by another guy.

* * *

"Well hello beautiful."

A sudden voice to her left startled Alex. She jumped slightly in her chair, her hand instinctively moving to where her holster would have been had she been carrying. When it came up empty, she tried to cover the involuntary action by tucking her hand under her thigh.

_See, this is why you are destined to only ever date people who carry guns_ _for a living_.

"Did I frighten you?" The voice belonged to a man of average height and weight with model good looks - wavy blonde hair, perfectly straight white teeth, and a flawless complexion. Alex estimated his age to be late twenties at most, probably no older than Spencer Farnell. He held out a hand and she took it with a quiet, reluctant sigh. Instead of the handshake she was expecting, he brought it to his lips with a flourish and kissed the back of her hand. His fingers were damp and slimy, and she had to fight the urge to jerk her hand away.

"My name's Darryl." His smile was blinding as he finally released her hand. "You must be new here. I'm here every weekend and there is no way I wouldn't have noticed you before. I've got a keen eye for sexy ladies."

_Great. We've got a live one here._

"No, I'm not from around here," Alex replied mildly, wiping her hand surreptitiously on her skirt. She smiled weakly at him before averting her gaze, trying to politely discourage further conversation. Darryl took that as an invitation, sliding into the empty chair across from her and motioning to her hand.

"No ring. You here with some girlfriends, or a boyfriend? Please don't say a boyfriend. That would break my heart." Darryl smiled again, showcasing his immaculate teeth. Alex wondered absently if this kid realized that she was probably a good ten years older than him. Maybe that was part of the attraction. He was into cougars. Either way, she wasn't interested.

Over Darryl's head, Alex caught sight of Bobby weaving through the crowd toward them and relief washed over her. When he saw Darryl, Bobby stopped. Tilting his head in the other man's direction, he raised his eyebrows questioningly, asking with his body language if she wanted him to give her some space. The second Darryl averted his eyes from her face to not so subtly check out the posterior of a young waitress sashaying past the table, Alex shook her head frantically and mouthed "Save me".

Bobby smiled, a mischievous glint in his eyes. Turning to his left, he squeezed between bar goers and disappeared again into the crowd. Alex shot daggers in the direction he vanished before turning back to Darryl resignedly. She was going to get Bobby for this. "I'm here with a friend. Sort of."

Darryl grinned so broadly she was shocked his face didn't crack. His teeth were starting to give her a headache. Or maybe that was his personality. "Glad to hear that. Not often a girl as pretty as you is still single. Must be something wrong with you." His laugh was loud and forced, and Alex rolled her eyes.

_Yep. This one is a winner. Bobby is a dead man_.

Twisting in the chair, Darryl craned his neck to see through the crowd. "I want to buy you a drink. Where's the damn waitress?" When one finally appeared through the crowd, he whistled and snapped his fingers at her before turning back to Alex with a cocky grin. "What will it be, something fruity and girly?"

Patience at an end, Alex was about to tell Darryl where to go when Bobby reappeared directly behind him. Placing his hand on the back of the chair and using his trademark Goren lean, he brought his face down to Darryl's level. "Uh, hi."

It was Darryl's turn to be frightened. He jumped and swiveled to stare at Bobby, frowning slightly. "Can I help you friend?"

Bobby motioned to Alex, glancing at her only briefly before returning his gaze to Darryl. "Actually, uh, I was thinking I could probably help you."

Darryl smirked, propping his elbow on the table and resting his chin on his hand, feigning interest. "And how is that?"

"Well, uh, I couldn't help overhearing your conversation, and you're, uh . . . " Bobby tilted his head in Alex's direction. "You're not going to score with her if that's what you're thinking."

Darryl's smirk flickered only momentarily before returning at full wattage. "Is that so?" He looked Bobby up and down. "Don't take this the wrong way pal, but I think I've got a lot more experience with women than you have."

Bobby nodded vigorously, running a finger absently along the edge of the table. "Well that's probably true, but see I don't, uh, I don't need to have a lot of experience with women to know that you're not going to get anywhere. I can tell just by looking at her body language."

Turning to Alex, Bobby winked playfully. "I mean, look at the way she's sitting. Leaning back in her chair. She's putting as much distance between you as possible without being too obvious. And, uh, her arms. She's got them crossed over her chest. Behaviorists describe that as a closed posture, as in closed minded. And her leg." Bobby pointed under the table. "Well you probably can't see it from there, but she keeps, uh, jiggling it, which is a sign of anxiety or irritation. Put all these signs together, and anyone could see that you're taking the wrong approach with her."

Darryl's sneer had disappeared by this point, shrinking with each sentence. He was glaring at Bobby with barely concealed contempt, displeased with being upstaged by someone he obviously considered inferior. Alex had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing.

Turning his attention from Darryl, Bobby shot her one of his brilliant smiles and held out a hand. "Hi. I'm Bobby."

Alex hesitated for a moment to add to the realism before taking his hand and shaking it. "Alex."

His hand felt warm and firm wrapped around hers. He held on longer than was necessary but not too long, never breaking eye contact.

Darryl slid off his chair and stood up straight. Even at full height, he was shorter and slighter than Bobby. Any attempt at intimidation would have failed, and he knew it. He looked at Alex with a strained smile and rolled his eyes, trying to get her on his side before turning his attention back to Bobby. "And you think you can do better I presume?"

Bobby chuckled. "Well yeah. You see, the problem is that you're using lines meant to pick up a girl to try to land a woman. That's just not going to work."

If looks could kill, Bobby would have been dead and buried. Darryl glowered at him, thumping his thumb rhythmically on the table. When he didn't respond after a full minute, Bobby turned back to Alex. Leaning on the table, he moved into her personal space, speaking loud enough that Darryl could hear but quiet enough that he seemed to be speaking only to her.

"You have a beautiful smile."

Alex swallowed a laugh, but she could feel a legitimate blush creeping up her cheeks. As if pleased with that response, Bobby looked at Darryl and grinned, bobbing his head proudly as if he had just done a great deed. Straightening back up, he nudged Darryl with his elbow. The other man recoiled as if he had been bitten by a snake.

Turning back to his partner, Bobby reclined his head in the direction of the bar. "Can I buy you a drink Alex?"

Slamming his hand down on the table, Darryl took a step back, his face the color of a fire engine. "Okay, that's enough. Let's go gorgeous. The crowd in here is too low brow tonight. I know a nice place near my apartment where no one will bother us."

He motioned for her to stand, but Alex remained seated, folding her hands on the table with a light smile. "Sorry Darryl. I'm sure you're a really nice guy, but I prefer my men tall, dark, and handsome. Have a good evening." Turning her head, she smiled at Bobby. "I'd really like that drink."

Darryl looked back and forth between them for a minute, seemingly unable to comprehend her choice. Then, with a final shake of his head and a dismissive wave of his hand, he disappeared into the crowd.

Grinning triumphantly, Bobby slid into the vacated chair and held up his hands in a mock shrug of victory. Alex chuckled and shook her head.

"You are such a jerk Bobby. I seriously thought you were going to abandon me with that guy."

It was Bobby's turn to chuckle. "Never. Just having a bit of fun. I don't know Eames. First Spencer, now this guy. I've been pulling them off you right, left, and center!"

Smiling, Alex tossed a cardboard coaster in his direction. "Shut up Goren. By the way, I was serious about getting that drink. What did you do with my beer?"


	3. Chapter 3

_Huge thanks to my beta reader Murph for her editing skill, insight into the characters, and ideas! This post ep wouldn't have been nearly as good without her. You are the best Murph!_

_Thanks also to everyone who has read and everyone who has reviewed. I really appreciate you taking the time. I hope you enjoy this next post-ep!_

**Chapter 3 - Want**

When the shrill ring of the phone woke her at 2:46 am, she automatically assumed it was the Captain. With her eyes clenched shut, she lay still for a moment, praying that the insistent trill was just part of a dream. She couldn't remember what time she had gone to bed, but it felt like mere moments ago.

Tossing an arm over her eyes with a groan, Alex slid her heel along the soft cotton of her sheets and rolled over onto her side. Once she answered the harpy's call, there was no turning back. She would have to climb out of her warm bed and traipse over to a crime scene. It would be an especially ugly crime scene in all likelihood, because they weren't even supposed to be catching cases tonight. The Captain would only be calling if they had been specifically requested, and the cases they were requested for were always the worst of the worst.

The peril of having such an excellent solve ratio. She could thank Bobby and his unorthodox methods for that.

Alex reminded herself that technically she didn't have to answer it. She wasn't on call. No one could expect her to answer. What if she had been out on the town, or entertaining company? Or maybe she was in the middle of making hot passionate love?

_Yeah right, when was the last time you did any of that? Especially the latter. _

Still, she didn't HAVE to answer. She could just let it go to voicemail. If it was important, they would leave a message.

As if responding to her will, the phone gave one last chirp and then fell silent. With a satisfied smirk, she rolled back over, proud of herself for setting boundaries for once. Even if she felt slightly guilty now, she would thank herself in the morning when she woke up nice and rested.

And then the phone rang again.

_Son of a . . . _

Shifting to her stomach, Alex reached over to the night stand and clumsily fumbled around for the phone. She ended up knocking it to the floor and had to crawl half out of bed to grab it.

"Eames." Her voice was crusty with sleep.

There was a brief pause before a familiar voice came over the line. "Uh… it's Bobby."

"Bobby." Alex maneuvered back into bed, rubbing her eyes sullenly with the back of her hand. It wasn't abnormal to hear from Bobby at odd hours either. He often called at bizarre times if something was bothering him. At least it wasn't the Captain about to drag her from her cozy bedroom. "What's wrong?"

There was another brief pause. In the silence, she could hear a car horn in the background.

"Uh...nothing. Can you come down?"

"Come down?" Frowning, Alex squinted at the ceiling, her sleep-addled mind trying to make sense of the request. "Come down where? Where are you?"

"I'm...uh...outside your building."

Throwing back the duvet, Alex slid out of bed and padded over to the window, cell phone still pressed against her ear. When her eyes finally adjusted to the dark, she could make out Bobby's tall form standing on the bottom of the concrete steps that led up to her building.

Tossing her cell phone on the dresser, it took her a minute to wrestle the window up. Leaning out, she spoke as loud as she dared.

"What are you doing here?"

Looking up, Bobby continued to speak into the phone even though she had hung up and the wind carried his words clearly to her anyway.

"Can we talk for a few minutes?"

"Hold on a second, I'll buzz you up." Alex turned to head to the front door, but a noise from below brought her back to the window.

"Actually, I would prefer to talk out here, if that's…" he fell silent for a moment, then finished with a question, "… uh…okay?"

Alex stared at him for a moment, frowning. Bobby shifted his weight back and forth on the stone stairs as he waited for a response. Finally, she nodded.

"I'll be right down."

Tugging a pair of lounge pants and a robe over her normal sleep attire of boxer shorts and a tank top, she shoved her feet into a pair of worn sandals and grabbed her keys. The hallway of her building was eerily quiet as she trekked down the shabby carpet that led to the stairway. Behind a few doors, a TV droned. Other than that, all was still.

_That's because normal people are sleeping at this time of the morning . . . _

When she reached the main foyer, the security guard stationed there glanced up briefly from the magazine he was reading and nodded curtly. She could feel his eyes following her as she pushed out the front door.

Bobby sat on the bottom step, his long legs stretched out in front of him. When he heard the door close behind her, he stood, wiping his hands on his long, grey trench coat.

"I'm sorry I woke you," Bobby muttered sheepishly, lowering his eyes to the fissured concrete and avoiding her gaze as she came down the steps toward him. "I don't… uh… sleep much. Sometimes I forget that other people do."

Alex bit back a smart remark when she noticed the dark circles that marked the undersides of his eyes and the salt and pepper stubble that coated his cheeks. He looked like he hadn't slept for weeks, and her mild irritation at being disturbed softened.

"It's fine. Are you okay? Did something happen with your mom?"

Bobby held up a finger before bending down to pick up a cardboard cup sitting on the bottom step beside him.

"I…" he smiled hopefully, "brought you a tea. I didn't figure you'd want something with caffeine, you know, at this hour of the night."

_He can be so sweet in his own "Bobby" way._

She took his offering with a smile. Tucking her robe under her, she lowered herself to the step across from him. Even without a breeze it was cool outside, and she could feel the damp cutting through her thin layer of clothing and penetrating her skin and bones. She cupped her hands around the cardboard and tried to absorb the warmth of the liquid within.

"Thanks."

Bobby nodded once sharply and then folded his long limbs down on the step opposite her. He picked up his own cup and took a sip, his eyes following the movement of a passing vehicle. Alex watched him curiously but remained silent, having learned that silence was often the most effective method to get Bobby to talk. She sipped on her tea instead, allowing the warmth to spread through her body, even though it never quite found its way to her extremities. Leaning back against the rough stucco wall that ran alongside the stairs, she shivered involuntarily.

"You're cold."

As if suddenly aware of the uncomfortable temperature, Bobby lowered his cup and moved to shrug out of his coat. She stopped him with a raised hand.

"I'm fine. Stop stalling. What's going on, Bobby?"

He fell silent and returned his gaze to the street, this time to watch a couple stumble arm-in- arm down the sidewalk. She was sure she had lost him inside himself again, when he finally spoke.

"I can't…uh… stop thinking about the Tagman case. He didn't deserve to die."

"He killed a girl, Bobby. Cut out her calf muscle, and then ate part of it." The thought made Alex sick to her stomach, but she kept her voice even and soft. "He destroyed another girl's brain. Drilled a hole in her head and poured hot water into it. Sorry, but I don't have a lot of sympathy for him. I'm not sure why you do either."

Bobby looked over at her, and she was surprised by the earnestness etched across his features. "I know what he did was wrong, but he didn't do it to inflict pain. He did it because he wanted them to stay with him. Afterward, he held them lovingly in his arms."

"That makes him a pervert Bobby, not a saint."

Bobby shook his head. "He just wanted a connection, someone who would stay. A girlfriend."

Alex laughed bitterly, pulling her robe tighter to fend off the cold. "Lots of people want that. The difference is that most people try Internet dating. They don't kill and eat their victim's calf muscles."

"Are you dating anyone?"

The question was so out of the blue it momentarily stunned her, and she stumbled mentally over a response under his curious eyes. When she didn't answer right away, Bobby averted his eyes, nodded, and changed the subject again. "I guess I just see a lot of myself in him."

Reeling from the abrupt change of course, Alex frowned and tried to follow. "Like who? Like Tagman? You are nothing like Tagman."

He kept his remarkable focus locked on the windows of the building across the street.

"How do you know that? How can you possibly know what anyone would do if their loneliness reached the level that he was experiencing?"

Alex pondered the question before deciding there was no option other than to agree.

"I guess you don't. Not until the person is actually in the situation."

Bobby nodded and fell silent again. After a moment, he sighed loudly.

"I know _that_ loneliness, Alex. When I was a kid, and my mother was having an episode, I would lock myself in my room for days. She would bang on my door, screaming at me. I felt like I was all alone in the world. I felt like Tagman must have felt. I just wanted someone to care."

Alex wrapped her arms around her knees.

"That's the difference between you and Tagman, Bobby. Instead of hurting others, you direct it in and hurt yourself."

Bobby shrugged. "Maybe. When we were out, having lunch, I could actually imagine Tagman and I being friends. He reminded me a lot of myself, and it scared me."

Alex nodded and rested her chin on her knees. "That explains the meltdown with Carver."

Bobby acknowledged that with a slight incline of his head. "When Carver was talking about the death penalty, it felt like I was the one on death row. Like I was the one...uh... fighting for my life."

They slipped into companionable silence again, sipping on their drinks. The concrete beneath Alex was starting to feel like a block of ice, and she shifted her weight to try to encourage blood flow. Bobby on the other hand seemed impervious to it. He was still as a statue.

It was Alex who broke the silence this time. "You got Tagman to confess in order to stop himself. Have you ever thought of doing something similar? Maybe talking about what you have been through would help you stop beating yourself up."

"You mean, like to a psychiatrist?" Bobby shook his head vehemently. "No. I'm fine."

Alex smiled sardonically. "If you were fine Bobby, we wouldn't be having this conversation. We would both be fast asleep."

Bobby chuckled, conceding her point, but the laughter never reached his eyes.

Alex continued, treading carefully, knowing one false move could bring the cards crashing down. "Have you ever thought that maybe the reason you feel so alone now is because you can't open up to anyone? It's hard to get close to you, Bobby. Maybe talking about your past to someone would help."

Bobby waved that notion away. "I would rather be focused on the future. I just want to move on."

"That will be hard to do when you are so weighed down with the past," Alex said gently.

Bobby shrugged, his thumb pressing the plastic tab on the lid of his cup down and then flipping it back up again. He opened his mouth as if he were about to say something, then snapped it shut. As he looked out over the now empty street, she watched him, her eyes tracing the familiar contours of his face.

Pushing off the step, Alex slid over to sit directly beside him, ignoring the tug of the rough concrete on the soft cotton of her lounge pants. She had to move up two steps to compensate for the height differential. He still avoided her eyes while she got resettled, staring straight ahead instead and sipping his coffee robotically.

His hair was long at the moment and it curled tightly at the front and at the back, hooking in the collar of his overcoat. Reaching over, she took an errant curl of hair from his forehead and tucked it back up with the rest. His cheekbone twitched at the contact.

"You're not a bad person, Bobby. You know that, don't you? No matter what your mother and father said to you growing up. You are a good person with a beautiful mind. It makes me sad that you don't see that about yourself. You need to silence those voices in your head. It is those voices that are keeping you lonely."

Bobby twisted to meet her eyes, and for a fleeting moment she thought he was going to kiss her. She felt like a fool for reading him wrong when he didn't, returning his gaze instead to the street with a brief smile. "Thank you."

Alex nodded and slowly stood up, gathering her robe around her. In an uncharacteristically tender gesture, she couldn't stop herself from reaching out and stroking his hair. His eyes fluttered shut as if that simple contact were exquisite. They only reopened when she lifted her hand. "Thanks for the tea."

She was halfway up the stairs when he called her name. She turned around to find him standing, now on the bottom step.

"What I said to Tagman, about never truly being free because we want what we want? I really believe that."

Alex hugged herself and nodded. "Do you think you can't change what you want, Bobby? Am I not _free_ if I want something that is good for me? Go after what you want, what makes you happy. You deserve it."

"What if what I want is someone I'm not supposed to have?"

He was staring at her now, and the intensity in his eyes elicited a shiver from her that had nothing to do with the cold.

"What? Am I going to have to take your drill away?" Alex joked, eager to diffuse the power of the moment. The way he was looking at her made her smolder in places she knew she shouldn't.

Bobby chuckled lightly. "No, nothing like that. I just thought since you were playing the shrink card tonight, I… uh… may as well get your opinion on this dilemma as well. "

Alex pretended to think about that for a moment. As long as she kept playing along, kept it light, they could write off this whole exchange as just friendly banter between partners. The second she stopped joking, it became something far more. Something neither of them was prepared to face. "I guess that depends. Would anyone get hurt? "

"I might."

Shoving his hands into his pockets, Bobby turned to leave, throwing her one last smile over his shoulder.

"But I guess that's just par for the course when you're in love."

Alex stood shivering on the steps, staring at the night sky, long after he had vanished from sight.


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N - Thanks to everyone who has read, reviewed, favorited and/or followed. I really appreciate the kind words. Very glad you are enjoying the story so far. Special thanks again to my wonderful beta Murph for her editing skills and her encouragement. She contributed fun animal facts and some great dialogue to this post-ep._

**Chapter 4 – Great Barrier**

"Why is no one moving? What's going on up there? Hope we aren't missing anything exciting."

It must have been the pleasant spring day that had brought The Bronx to life. After a dreary week of steady rain, the skies had cleared that morning and the sun shone with near summer intensity over the borough. Residents and tourists alike had woken from a weather-induced coma and apparently decided to converge on the Bronx Zoo simultaneously.

An impatient frown creasing his face, Bobby rocked back and forth on his heels, fingers playing absently with the camera strap that hung around his neck. In front of him, a veritable sea of people crowded the Tiger Mountain Exhibit. Even standing on his tiptoes, Bobby couldn't see any activity over rows of heads, children sitting on their fathers' shoulders, and elevated video cameras.

Glancing at her watch, Alex bit absently at a hangnail. "Let's just go. We don't want to miss the next departure of the Wild Asia Monorail." A fragrant spring breeze ruffled her hair and her thin fingers chased an escaped tendril, tucking it back behind her ear.

"No way." Bouncing on the balls of his feet, Bobby craned his neck left and right, searching for an opening in the wall of people. "You haven't stopped talking about this exhibit all week. We're not leaving until you see it."

A wooden bench stood to their left, its wrought iron legs rooted in the concrete of the sidewalk. Striding over, Bobby grabbed the back of the bench and heaved himself up onto it. The wood creaked and buckled a little under his weight, throwing off his balance. He had to windmill his arms to re-establish his equilibrium. When he felt steady again, Bobby straightened. Shading his eyes from the sun, he counted off the rows of people ahead of them. More than a few people looked his way, whispering and giggling. He ignored them as he held up six fingers, one for each row ahead of them. Alex missed the signal, her focus diverted to a pair of teenagers who were staring and snickering at his antics. Her lips were pressed into a thin line, her eyes shielded behind gold-rimmed aviator sunglasses

His mother's voice forced its way out of the compartment of his mind he normally locked it in.

"_Don't embarrass me, Bobby." _

Hopping down from the bench quickly and decidedly more coordinated, Bobby squeezed through the cluster of people who had filled the void beside Alex when he stepped away. "We're not too far back. We've still got time."

Shrugging in submission, Alex pulled the zoo map out of her pocket and unfolded it.

"We've seen the Congo Gorilla Forest, African Plains, Baboon Reserve, Himalayan Highlands, and World of Reptiles so far. We have the Wild Asia Monorail, Big Bears, and World of Birds exhibits left to go."

Reaching across her, Bobby traced the Big Bears exhibit with his index finger. "This is a definite must-see. They've got a new polar bear since the last time I was here. Did you know that field scientists originally thought that all polar bears were . . . uh . . . left handed?"

Alex smiled dryly. "Ah, a kindred spirit of yours then. Polar bears are south paws." She shook her head, hair gleaming in the sunlight. "I learn something new every day."

The tinted aviators hid her eyes and made it impossible to tell if she was actually interested or just humoring him. In the absence of clear feedback, he barrelled ahead.

"Turns out that's not the case though. The original theory was that the . . . uh . . . polar bears covered their noses when hunting. You know, since their black noses would stand out against the backdrop of white snow. Researchers thought the bears always used their right paw to cover their noses and their left paw to strike and kill prey, making the left the . . . uh . . . dominant paw. Now it's widely believed that polar bears don't try to cover their noses at all when hunting. They need both paws to run on the ice. The term "south paw" has . . . uh . . . nothing to do with bears at all. It's 1880's baseball slang. The games were played in the afternoon then, so to avoid having players squinting into the sun, the ball diamonds faced east. When a left-handed pitcher stood on the mound, his pitching arm was on the south side, giving birth to the expression . . . uh . . . 'south paw'."

As Bobby enthusiastically wrapped up his teachable moment, the right corner of Alex's mouth twitched into a smile. "Is there anything you don't know?"

Averting his eyes, Bobby hoped the spring sun had brought enough color to his face to hide the crimson burn he felt on his cheeks.

_There you go again, blathering on like a fool._

"Sure, there's . . . uh . . . lots I don't know. I just like to read . . . and learn."

"You and your library card." Alex shook her head, but with amusement or irritation he couldn't be sure until she went on. "You never fail to amaze me."

Bobby ducked his head shyly at the compliment, shuffling his feet as the crowd took a step forward. "Sorry. I know I'm full of useless facts."

Smiling, Alex folded the park map back up and crammed it into the back pocket of her jeans. "I'm just happy to see you excited again. Anytime Nicole Wallace crosses your path, she sucks all the joie de vivre out of you like a leech."

At the mere mention of Wallace's name, Bobby's face hardened to stone. The spark of energy along his skin elicited by Alex's proximity disappeared as if doused with ice water. "Yeah."

Alex hesitated before speaking again, the weight of her eyes evident even through the reflective sunglasses. "Her body hasn't turned up yet."

Bobby shrugged. "It won't. She always comes back. Like a cat, she has nine lives. She's still got a bunch left." Blowing out a gusty sigh, he toyed with the buttons on his grey and black plaid shirt and tried to peer through the slowly dispersing crowd. "What are people doing up there? Filming a documentary?"

It didn't surprise him when she refused to drop the subject. Her tenacity was one of the things he loved about her. "What's the deal with this hold she has over you?"

Bobby wiped a light sheen of sweat off his forehead. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Come on, Bobby. You know exactly what I'm talking about." Alex's brown leather jacket creaked as she put her hands on her hips. "I saw your face when you were watching that videotape from two years ago. You were in a complete daze listening to her."

Bobby sucked in a breath and stared up at the cloudless blue sky. "I don't want to talk about this right now."

"Why not?"

Agitated, Bobby twisted his hands together, his mind struggling to form an acceptable response. What he came up with sounded lame, even to him. "Because we're . . . off duty."

Alex stared at him, the lenses of her sunglasses reflecting his strained features. Eventually she sighed and nodded. "I just hate that bitch."

The malice that accompanied that final word hung in the air. Bobby raised his eyebrows, surprised at the passionate hatred. He had always assumed Alex viewed Nicole Wallace with the same detached distain she held for all perps. The venom in that final epithet suggested something far more personal.

"It bothered you when she . . . uh . . ." Bobby searched for the exact words, gesturing with his hands as if that would help speed up the process. ". . . made that comment about you needing the sonogram to keep you warm at night."

Alex dismissed that suggestion with a shake of her head. "No, that didn't bother me. At least not much. I know she said it to get a reaction, and I'll be damned if she will have that kind of power over me. I just don't like the way she looks at you . . . and the way you look at her."

The crowd advanced a few steps and Alex followed automatically. Bobby was slower to react, still processing her comment. He only jerked into motion when he felt the impatient crush of people behind him. When he finally caught up with her, the flicker of emotion on her face moments before had vanished.

"What do you mean the way I look at her?"

"Never mind." Alex rotated her shoulders backward as if to relieve tension. "I shouldn't have brought it up."

The crowd pressed forward again, and this time Bobby reached out for her, catching himself just before he grabbed her elbow. She stopped anyway, and he tried to cover up the near contact by moving his hand to straighten the camera strap. "No, tell me. Please."

"That's a double standard, Bobby. You can avoid a topic, but I can't?" Alex's tone was sharp at first but softened when she saw the pleading in his eyes. Sighing, she crammed her hands into her jacket pockets and jingled her car keys uneasily.

"Whenever you two are in the same room, it's like no one else exists, including me. You don't look anywhere but at her, and she never takes her eyes off you. It's like there is some sort of special connection between you. The way she calls you Bobby. It . . . bothers me. I feel like her opinion is more important to you than mine sometimes."

When the crowd in front of them suddenly dispersed entirely, Alex stepped forward and disappeared. Bobby was left standing there, stuttering. It took him a full minute to convince his brain to communicate with his feet and follow. The path she had taken was more her size than his, and he had to utter a million apologies as he stepped on feet and jostled people with his backpack.

When he finally caught sight of Alex, she was standing against the glass of the viewing area. She had lifted up her sunglasses, watching the big cats as they lounged on the long, flat rocks. As if on command, one of the cats stood, stretched, and yawned, showcasing an impressive array of sharp teeth. Its body rippled with lean muscle as it sauntered toward the viewing glass.

"Wow," Alex whispered, even though it wasn't necessary. "I've never seen a tiger up close before. They were my favorite animal as a kid."

"Amazing, aren't they?" Bobby smiled, lifting the digital camera from around his neck. Seemingly aware of the impromptu photo opportunity, the huge animal posed on the rock closest to them, tail twitching, its eyes lazily monitoring the activity behind the glass as Bobby snapped pictures.

"Did you know that tigers have round pupils? That's different from . . . uh . . . domestic cats, who have slit like pupils. Domestic cats hunt at night, while tigers are crepuscular – they hunt mostly in the morning and evening. Oh, and tiger urine smells like . . . uh . . . buttered popcorn."

Alex burst out laughing, the melodic sound echoing through the enclosed viewing area. It was such a rare and wonderful sound that it actually startled Bobby and he jumped visibly.

"Only you, Bobby, only you." The smile on Alex's face as she said it made him feel warm inside.

It seemed Bobby wasn't the only one attracted to the sound of Alex's laughter. The tiger jumped lithely from the layered rocks and ambled over as close to the viewing glass as possible, much to the delight of onlookers. Alex crouched down, hands on knees, lowering herself to the cat's level, a look of pure awe on her face. The stunning image stole Bobby's breath and it took him a minute to lift the camera and capture the moment.

"Bobby, get closer." Alex glanced over with a wide smile, beckoning him to join her. "Isn't she gorgeous?"

There was no tiger in the picture Bobby was staring at when he mumbled "Absolutely beautiful."

* * *

The conversation after they left Tiger Mountain and boarded the Wild Asia Monorail was stilted. Although they sat side-by-side on the short twenty minute trip through the exhibit, the figurative distance between them was palpable. He thought about re-initiating their previous discussion about Nicole a million times, but the words caught in his throat and stole his voice. For her part, the smile that had adorned her face at Tiger Mountain had vanished. His attempts to cheer her up with more useless trivia were in vain.

By the time they stepped off the Monorail, the sun sat in its midday position in the sky and they elected to take a long overdue break for lunch. It was well past a normal lunch hour and only a few family groups dotted the Bear Overlook picnic area, kids playing while parents relaxed on benches, picnic tables, and blankets. Bobby trailed behind Alex as she skirted around the scattered clusters of people and found an open patch of grass in the shade. Together they spread out the blanket and set out the lunch that Alex had brought. Sandwiches, potato chips, cookies, and fruit - a picnic smorgasbord that Bobby had always longed for growing up, when he would cut through the park on the way home and watch happy families blow bubbles and fly kites.

Neither spoke as they ate. It was one of the things Bobby enjoyed most about spending time with Alex. There was little need to talk. They could sit in silence without any discomfort or awkwardness. It was a hard trait to find in a relationship, or whatever this thing brewing between him and Alex could be called.

After eating their fill and returning the leftovers to Bobby's backpack, they remained in the shade, watching other zoo visitors shuffle by. Alex lay back on the blanket with a yawn and Bobby couldn't stop himself from admiring her tight little body as she got settled. He loved when she wore jeans. They highlighted her curves in all the right places. When she arched her back to escape a rock digging into her through the blanket, Bobby squeaked, a noise that he tried to quickly cover with a cough. It took a gargantuan effort to rip his eyes away. When she reached down to tug her shirt over the strip of exposed skin that had appeared above her jeans, he was pretty sure she had noticed.

_Nicely done, Goren. IAB could suspend you for that look alone. It was undeniably lecherous. _

Eager for a distraction, Bobby stared out over the picnic area, mentally reciting everything he could remember about grass until his heart stopped pounding and his head cleared. A few yards away, a family of four lounged on a multicolored blanket. The younger of the two children lay on his stomach, driving a toy tractor through the grass sea that surrounded the blanket island. Sensing Bobby's eyes on him, the little boy looked up and smiled. Bobby smiled back and waved, feeling a weight settle on his chest and his throat grow tight.

It was Bobby who had to look away first, turning his attention to his shoelaces, tracing their path up his running shoes. It was an old trick he had learned growing up. Focus on something safe when your mind won't stop whirling.

This time that strategy didn't work. The words he was trying to suppress forced their way up his aching throat and past his teeth. "Do you think I've missed my chance to have kids?"

Alex's brows furrowed over the gold frames of her sunglasses as she propped herself up on her elbows, the blanket bunching beneath her. "Where did that come from?"

"Nicole. When we were . . . uh . . . in the interview room, she said that people like me and her, we just . . . uh . . . weren't fated to have children."

Alex flopped back on the blanket with a disgusted sigh. "See Bobby, this is exactly what I was talking about earlier. Why do you put so much stock in what that woman says? If you want to have kids, you will have kids. Just ignore her."

Bobby nodded sharply twice before looking back at the young boy, whose attention had returned to his tractor.

"Do you think I will be a good father though? It's not like I had a . . . uh . . . really good role model."

Sliding her sunglasses on top of her head, Alex sat up, crossing her legs. Her knee brushed against his thigh and they both studiously ignored the jolt of electricity that passed between them. "I think just by asking that question, you are showing that you would be. You care about being a good dad. That's the first and most important step."

Bobby bobbed his head again. A few yards away, the family of four started to gather up their things.

"I really don't value her opinion more than yours."

Alex sighed, her fingers twisting a strand of grass into a spiral. "It just feels like you're more honest with her than me. If she asks you a question about your family, you answer. If I ask, all I ever hear is that everything is fine, even when I know it's not. Nicole wants to exploit you, and every personal piece of information you share with her supports that mission. I would never do that. I don't want you to feel you have to censor what you say around me. Are you worried I'm going to judge you?"

Bobby shook his head. "No. It's just that she . . . uh . . . understands. She had a difficult childhood too. She has her own burdens, with no need or desire to take on mine. Sometimes I hold things back from you because I don't . . . uh . . . want you to have to carry my burdens too. And I care more about what you think of me than what Nicole thinks of me."

"Bobby." Reaching out, Alex placed a hand over his. Her soft skin was a cool comfort. "I wouldn't change anything about you, the typical or the unusual. I appreciate what makes you different and all that you have to offer."

Bobby met her eyes and nodded once, slowly this time. His heart thundered so loudly in his chest he was certain she heard it. His pulse pounded painfully in his ears and his hand tingled where her fingers rested. When he looked at her, his stomach ached with frustrated desperation.

Why couldn't he just tell her how he felt when she could so easily open up and share such kind words with him?

It wasn't fair to her. He needed to show her, or he would lose her. He knew he would. He needed to seize the moment. She was close enough now that it wouldn't take much effort to kiss her. Not much effort at all.

Making his decision, Bobby's eyes flicked between her eyes and her mouth. Alex's breath grew shallow as he slowly, very slowly, leaned toward her. Her Adam's apple danced in her throat and she removed her hand from his, but didn't try to pull away. That was all the permission he could hope for.

He would have kissed her if a wolf whistle from behind hadn't stopped him in his tracks.

"Woohoo! Way to go Pops! Gettin' some sweet, sweet action!"

Bobby and Alex jumped as if caught in a criminal act, swivelling around to see a pack of three teenage boys passing by on the grass a few feet away. The boys hooted and hollered encouragement, flashing thumbs up at them before trotting away. Bobby and Alex both scrambled to their feet, his face beet red and her gait slightly unsteady.

When Bobby finally found the courage to glance back over at her, she had made herself very busy folding up the blanket and stuffing it into his backpack. Her voice was strained with forced cheerfulness when she spoke.

"Well, I guess we shouldn't keep those polar bears of yours waiting!"


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5 – Eosphoros**

"Are you _sure_ your friends won't mind?"

A soft drizzle fell indolently from the sky, coating Alex's polka-dotted golf umbrella with a thin layer of moisture as she frowned cynically at Bobby. The click of her boot heels on the sidewalk echoed down the narrow street, each step creating an impact tremor in neighboring puddles. Overhead, the moon fought to shed its shroud of cloud, casting weak, watery light on the monstrous brownstones that loomed on both sides of the road.

"It's not exactly a . . . uh . . . secret society or anything," Bobby replied with a smile, ducking his head to avoid snagging the large umbrella on a low hanging branch. "It's just a bunch of friends who get together one Friday evening every month to play poker for fun, a little money, and bragging rights."

"Still, I kind of invited myself." Alex tugged the zipper of her jacket higher to ward off the cool mist that snuck under the umbrella.

He shook his head, nimbly skirting a garbage can that lay perpendicular across the sidewalk. "No, you didn't. I invited you."

Chuckling dryly, Alex pushed a clump of hair out of her eyes. "Only because I spent all day at work whining about the boring evening I had ahead of me. Admit it, Goren. This was a pity invite."

Bobby laughed, his eyes bright even in the dim moonlight. "It'll be fine, I promise."

"How long has this monthly poker club been going on?" Alex asked, shaking her left arm to empty the small streams that coursed along the creases in the sleeve of her jacket.

Bobby thought about that for a moment as he adjusted the umbrella to ensure she was completely covered. The slight correction left his right arm vulnerable to the elements. If he had just pressed himself a bit closer to her, neither of them would have gotten wet at all. Naturally he didn't elect to take that route. She had noticed long ago that Bobby avoided touching at all costs. At least with her.

_How flattering that he would rather touch victims and perps than you. _

". . . been probably a good ten years," Bobby was saying, his forehead wrinkled in thought. "It's really just an excuse for us to get together, have a few drinks, and relax."

"Well, you know I always love meeting your friends." The left side of Alex's mouth quirked up into a smile as she mentally revisited the colorful cast of "buddies" she had met since they became partners. "For the record though, it's been years since I played Texas Holdem. I'm not even sure I remember how."

"Don't worry. It'll come back to you. I can help." Bobby nodded his head in the direction of a red brick building with delicate white sheathes in the ground floor windows that had appeared to their left. "This is it."

Shaking out the umbrella, Bobby held open a glass door and ushered Alex into a small, institutional foyer with gleaming faux marble floors. A series of mailboxes preceded a short flight of stairs that led down to two ground-floor apartments. Behind the green door on the right hand side, voices were audible. Bobby knocked once before walking straight in.

The door opened unceremoniously on a moderately sized living area lit by several strategically-placed floor lamps. A white card table and a series of folding chairs, all occupied, had been set up in the center of the room. A pair of dilapidated sofas sat kitty corner along the walls straight ahead and on the left. To the right, an archway announced the presence of a small kitchen.

"Bobby!"

The chorus of cheerful voices that greeted Bobby warmly as he stepped through the door faded quickly when Alex crossed the threshold behind him. She could have sworn she heard a pin drop as all eyes in the room locked on her and more than a few sets of brows skyrocketed toward hairlines.

"And who is _this_?" The first man to speak had a coarse voice that matched his craggy features. His jet black hair was caked with gel and his teeth were dull against his caramel skin. Tight coal-colored eyes raked over her with interest.

Shrugging out of his overcoat, Bobby hung it on the wooden coat rack that stood guard beside the door. "This is . . . uh . . . Alex." Turning to face the room, he motioned first to the five men seated at the card table and then to the three women perched on the edge of the sofa. "Alex, this is Leland, Tom, Paul, Denis, Susan, Joanne, and Becky. You already know Lewis."

Alex offered a weak smile and a wave by way of greeting, already feeling like a flagrant intruder. "Nice to meet you all. Sorry for just dropping in."

"Bobby, you didn't tell us you had a girlfriend." Becky, a stout, pleasantly plump woman of about fifty leaned forward on the sofa, her eyes sparkling with interest. "When did this happen?"

Bobby ducked his head and flushed. "It's not . . . uh . . . like that. It's just . . ."

He trailed off, apparently lost in his search for an appropriate description of their connection. Alex grew uncharacteristically uncomfortable in the silence, partly due to the unrelenting scrutiny of the people in the room and partly due to her partner's obvious struggle to clearly characterize their relationship.

_What exactly are we, Bobby? I'd love to know._

It was good-natured Lewis who stepped in to save his best friend.

"Alex and Bobby work together. They're partners. Work partners. " He turned to the raven-haired man who had spoken first. "C'mon, Leland. Are you going to deal, or what?"

Leland smirked as he shuffled the cards, gaze still focused on Alex. "You want to play, sweetheart?"

Beside her, Bobby tensed at the condescending tone, but Alex kept her face pleasantly neutral.

"No, it's okay." She nodded in the direction of the women on the couch. "I'm sure one of the other ladies would like to play first."

Leland chortled at the thought. "Nah, Susie, Becky, and Jo just come to paint their nails, gossip, and support their men." He turned to flash Joanne a broad smile. "Ain't that right, baby? How about you go get your man a cold beer from the fridge before we start the next hand?"

Joanne, a beautiful brunette in her late thirties, rolled her eyes but moved to comply until Bobby held up a hand to stop her.

"I'll . . . uh . . . get it." Bobby turned to Alex, eyes swimming in silent apology. "Can I get you a beer?"

"That would be great, thanks." As he disappeared into the kitchen, Alex looked again at the other women. "Sure no one else wants to play?" When all three shook their heads, she shrugged and slid out of her coat. "Okay. Deal me in then."

* * *

By the time Bobby returned with three beers, the ante was in and the blinds had been posted. Pulling up a folding chair slightly behind Alex, he placed the bottles on the table and peered at the pocket cards that she shielded from the rest of the table with a hand.

Queen of hearts and seven of spades. Bobby's chair creaked as he leaned back, chewing the inside of his cheek thoughtfully.

"Any brilliant insights?" Alex whispered over her shoulder as she returned the cards face down to the table. Across from her, Paul raised and Lewis folded.

Bobby remained motionless for a moment, eying the other players across the expanse of the square table. She was about to repeat the question when suddenly he sat up straight and leaned forward, draping his arm over the back of her chair. She could feel the contours of his forearm against her shoulder blades. When he bent his arm at the elbow, his hand dangled down beside her, his thumb accidently brushing her soft skin once before he tucked it back behind his fingers.

"Raise." Bobby's voice was smooth as silk, his breath warm in her ear. The hair on Alex's arms stood on end and she fought hard to quell a pleasurable shudder that started at her toes and worked its way up. She had to force herself to move away from him to toss the chips into the pot. When she leaned back, his arm still lingered on the back of her chair.

Several betting rounds later, Lewis, Tom, and Paul had all folded, leaving Denis, Leland, and Alex in the game. Leland's face had progressively darkened into a thundercloud each round she didn't fold, but Denis's poker face was firmly in place as the river appeared on the table. Denis called and Leland raised, challenge in his eyes as he stared at Alex and tossed his chips with flourish into the pot.

The room had fallen silent, the tick of a cheap plastic clock the most prominent sound as Alex pondered her next move. Wavering now that the chips were pretty much down, she turned back to Bobby for guidance. His magnetic eyes met hers as he shrugged his broad shoulders and smiled lightly. "Your choice."

It was Leland's arrogant smirk that hardened her resolve. There was no way she was going to fold. Not to him. Instead, she went all in.

_Go big or go home._

"Moment of truth." Bobby reached over to flip her cards face up and the other players followed suite. Denis was the first to groan when he saw his opponents' hands and knew he was beat. Leland looked smug when his flush was revealed, but the self-satisfaction faded instantly when he saw Alex's cards.

Bobby, on the other hand, was positively beaming as he reached across the table and scooped the pot in Alex's direction. "Full house. The lady wins."

* * *

"Sooooooo . . . Alex, huh."

Grinning, Paul tapped his cigar against the concrete step, sending a shower of spark and ash to the sidewalk. The drizzle had stopped sometime over the last two hours, but the cloud cover still lingered stubbornly in front of the moon. The air would have been unusually fresh were it not for the haze of cigar smoke that hung over the men's heads.

Leaning against a gnarled oak tree, Bobby blew smoke rings as he watched a mangy stray dog sniff through the hedge a few yards away. "What about her?"

"She's hot, man." Paul's fair complexion, ruddy red hair, impish grin, and green eyes gave him the look of a middle-aged leprechaun.

"I know," Bobby said defensively, the rough bark of the tree digging into his arm as he took another puff on his cigar. "Not blind."

"What exactly _is_ going on between you and her?" Tom rolled the stogie between his fingers as he exhaled a plume of smoke, a look of near rapture on his face.

Bobby shook his head slowly, a wisp of smoke escaping from between his lips. "Nothing. We're . . . uh . . . just friends."

"C'mon Bobby, we're all buddies here. It's been a real long time since you brought a girl to poker." Leland grinned around his cigar. "You must be banging her."

"I'm not," Bobby snapped. His fingers tightened convulsively around the cigar, the pressure triggering an avalanche of ash that fell on the front of his shirt. Swearing under his breath, he swiped at it with his free hand. "It's not like that."

"Ahhh." Leland sneered, his teeth gnawing at the butt of the cigar. "I see how it is. You're not banging her, but you want to."

"Let it go, Lee," Lewis interjected mildly as he tossed the remnants of his cigar into a receptacle beside the stairs. "Bobby and Alex are partners. There are clear policies. He could lose his job if anyone ever found out. They both could."

Leland's bark of laughter was interrupted by a coughing fit when the wafting cigar smoke tickled the back of his throat. "Since when have you ever done anything according to policy, Bobby? Give me a break. You're just chicken and hiding behind policy now that it suits you. Grow a pair, man."

"It has nothing to do with policy," Bobby muttered, dropping the last of his cigar onto the pavement and grounding it out with his foot. He picked up the blackened casing and tossed it in the receptacle. "Alex is my partner, and that's it. We're just colleagues."

"So it would be cool with you if I asked her out then, right? Since you aren't interested?" A mischievous grin twitched at the corner of Denis' lips as Bobby shot him a look that could only be described as murderous. "Yeah, that's what I thought. Your partner is a better bluffer than you, Bobby."

Wisps of smoke curled above Leland's lips like a handlebar mustache as he exhaled slowly. "Bobby, you're my friend, so I'm gonna let you in on a little secret. Women like Alex, they don't stay single for long, and they ain't gonna wait around for you to get your shit together. Good jobs are easier to find than good women. That in mind, here's what I want you to do. When you leave here tonight, I want you to ask her up to your place for a nightcap. Put on some of that boring classical music shit you listen to sometimes, light a few candles, and get her a glass of wine. Work that Goren charm, make your move, and take her to bed."

Tossing the dregs of his cigar onto the sidewalk in a shower of sparks, Leland stood and clapped a meaty hand on Bobby's shoulder. "Because believe me buddy, if you don't, someone else will."

* * *

"Sure I can't get you another beer?"

The springs in the sofa squeaked as Susan settled into the yielding cushion beside Alex and placed a tumbler of amber liquid on the glass-topped coffee table. Her blonde hair was curly and unruly, and it took her several attempts to pull it back into a clip. In the kitchen, Becky and Joanne were engaged in a friendly squabble about the merits of herbal tea.

"No, thank you," Alex said with a smile, holding up the bottle of water she had grabbed from the refrigerator moments before. "I've got to drive home later."

"You're not staying over at Bobby's?" Becky tried to keep the question light as she strolled back into the room, mug in hand, but her curiosity in the answer was blatant.

Shifting on the sofa, Alex stifled a resigned sigh. When the men had disappeared outside to enjoy Paul's prized cigars, she figured this would happen.

_Let the interrogation begin . . ._

"No, I'm not staying over at Bobby's."

"But you could if you wanted to." Joanne leaned in the arch that opened onto the kitchen, her eyes watching Alex carefully over the rim of her blue Disneyland mug.

"We work together. It wouldn't be a good idea," Alex mumbled stiffly, one finger tracing a path of condensation down the body of her water bottle.

"That's the official story." Becky scratched her bare foot with a manicured nail, eyes twinkling. "We want the _real_ story."

Alex squirmed uncomfortably, feeling a muscle tic come to life below her left eye. "I'm not sure what else there is to say. We're partners and friends. That's about it."

It wasn't a lie. Nothing had happened between her and Bobby, and nothing could. Wanting it to didn't count.

Susan smiled as she eased herself back into the fleshy sofa cushions. "Obviously you haven't noticed the way he looks at you, or you would know it's way more than that. At least on his end."

"Yep, the man's in love," Becky agreed with a sage nod of her head.

Alex felt her smile morph into a grimace as she began to wither under their purposeful stares. "I don't think so."

Susan drew her knees up onto the couch. "He's brought girls here before, a long time ago mind you, but he _never_ looked at them the way he looks at you."

The grimace turned brittle and she tried to cover it by taking a long pull of water. "Well, it's complicated."

"So you don't feel the same way?" Susan's voice took on a sudden edge that had Alex mentally plotting an escape route.

Clearing her throat, she swallowed thickly. "It doesn't matter what I feel."

"It matters to Bobby." Susan leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees, wedding band glinting in the lamplight. The affability that had brightened her eyes moments before had dimmed, which magnified the intensity of her stare. "Look Alex, you seem really nice, but you need to be honest about your intentions here. Bobby is an amazing guy. One of the best."

Alex opened her mouth to agree, but the other woman cut her off abruptly.

"I mean that. He has been there for every one of us at one point or another. He has already had his heart broken too many times by women who didn't appreciate him, who tried to snuff out his spirit and make him into someone he's not. He deserves so much better than life has offered him so far. I'm warning you. I'm not going to sit idly by and let you hurt him, because I can tell that you have the power to do some real damage. You need to decide what you want and either let him in or cut him loose."

"It doesn't matter what I want. He's my partner." Alex repeated the line that had become her mantra. This time, it left a bitter taste in her mouth. "There are very clear rules around that."

"Maybe, but the heart wants what the heart wants," Becky said softly, reaching over to lay a friendly hand on Alex's knee. "How much longer do you think you can fight destiny?"

* * *

By the time they left Paul and Becky's brownstone, the moon had finally emerged victorious from its battle with the clouds. It reflected triumphantly in the thin puddles that lined the curb and flirted with the smattering of stars visible beyond the bright city lights. With the exception of a few cars and the occasional group of college students returning from one of the many local bars, they were alone on the street.

"I'm . . . uh . . . sorry about Leland." Bobby swung the closed umbrella back and forth beside him like a pendulum.

"Don't worry about it." Alex waved away the apology with a flick of her wrist. "I know the type."

"He really is a good guy, underneath all the bravado. You get him one-on-one and he's a lot more tolerable."

"I'll take your word for that," she grunted, running her hand absently through her hair. "I feel sorry for poor Joanne, having to put up with that all the time".

Bobby shrugged. "They've been together for a long time. She must see something in him."

"No clue what," Alex muttered with a frown. "It's odd to hear you defending him Bobby. You, the great champion of women."

"Could be worse," Bobby protested, skirting a slippery patch of mud. "At least Leland is more bark than bite. I mean, April Callaway fell in love with Mitch . . . uh . . . Godel. He had even fewer redeeming qualities."

Alex shrugged as they came to a halt in front of Bobby's building and turned to face each other. "That's one way to look at it I guess."

"Oh, love is the crooked thing. There is nobody wise enough to find out all that is in it," Bobby murmured softly, his attention focused on something just over her head.

"Very poetic."

Bobby nodded, his eyes drifting up slowly to the darkened windows of his fourth floor apartment. "It's from a Yeats' poem. The Young Man's Song."

His gaze slipped from the building and returned to her face as he recited the words. "'Ah penny, brown penny, brown penny. I am looped in the loops of her hair. Oh, love is the crooked thing. There is nobody wise enough to find out all that is in it. For he would be thinking of love, til the stars had run away, and the shadows eaten the moon."

The prose hung in the air for a moment before they both started talking at the same time.

"Bobby, I-"

"Did you . . . uh . . . wan-"

They both laughed and the awkwardness of the moment dissipated as if that happy sound had frightened it away. When the laughter died down, Bobby's smile was replaced by a solemn expression. He drew a deep breath and released it in a huge sigh that loosened his visibly tense shoulders.

"Did you want t…"

This time, it was a phone that interrupted him. Grumbling in frustration, Bobby held up a finger and rooted in the deep pocket of his overcoat until he located his cell. Worry creased the corners of his eyes as he glanced at the call display. "It's Carmel Ridge."

"You better answer it."

"Yeah, sorry." Turning away from her, Bobby took the call. She wandered a few steps away to grant him some privacy, returning only when she heard him snap the phone shut.

"Everything okay?"

"Not really." Bobby released another long, drawn out sigh. He met her eyes for a moment before deflating, his shoulders sagging wearily. "I've got to head over there."

Alex jerked a thumb at her car, waiting patiently in a parking spot a few spaces down from the front door of Bobby's building. "Do you want a lift?"

Bobby shook his head vehemently. "No, thanks. It's not on your way, and who knows how long I'll have to stay."

"I could drop you off and pick you up when you're ready. I don't have any plans for tomorrow." Alex bit the inside of her cheek to stop herself from sounding any more eager. She knew she should just let him go, but the urge to keep their evening going was stronger than logic.

"No, no. It's okay. I'll take myself." Bobby turned and took the steps to the front door of his building two at a time. He was almost at the top when he wheeled around to face her again. "Thanks for coming tonight. I'll . . . uh . . . see you at work on Monday."

When the door closed heavily behind him, Alex sighed and retreated to her car.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6 – In the Dark**

"I cannot believe you talked me into this."

Frowning, Alex leaned over, hands cupping her elbows through the thin blue nylon of her windbreaker as she looked down at Bobby. The spaced wooden slats of the bench dug into the underside of her thighs, the unseasonably strong September sun turning the pale skin on the back of her neck to a soft pink beneath her ponytail.

Down on one knee, Bobby smiled as he dexterously tightened the laces on Alex's rollerblades. Behind him, Central Park was awash with afternoon activity. Sweaty joggers dodged parents who tugged little red wagons full of rambunctious children. Professionals in power suits, extra large coffee in one hand and briefcase in the other, bustled along the asphalt path, rubbing shoulders with canoodling couples and vacant-eyed vagrants.

Giving the thick white laces a final tug, Bobby nodded once with satisfaction and stood, wiping his hands on his jeans. "You've been saying for the last two days you were dying to exercise somewhere other than at the gym, _and_ you've been moaning that you bought these rollerblades, only to have them collecting dust in the front closet. This kills two birds with one stone."

"Those birds won't be the only thing dead by the end of the afternoon," Eames grumbled, one finger absently twirling her ponytail. A pair of teenagers rocketed by on their blades, jockeying for position and kicking up a cloud of crunchy autumn leaves in their wake. The prospect of having to compete with them for space on the path made her stomach twist. "Although you were obviously listening to some of what I said, you must have missed the part where I explained that I can't skate."

"Oh no, I heard that," Bobby confirmed with an earnest nod.

"Of course you did." Alex shook her head and sighed with a resigned smile. "Alright, let's get this show on the road then."

Bobby turned, his eyes searching for an opening in the steady stream of walkers, joggers, and sightseers in front of him. In the first available gap, he stepped off the grass and onto the paved trail. Moving with a grace that belied his size, he skated effortlessly in a circle, avoiding a toddler on a tricycle and a young girl on a skateboard. The sight brought a genuine smile to Alex's face.

_From lumbering klutz to bird on the wing. You just never know about people. Anyone who underestimates you is a fool, Bobby. _

The brakes on his skates squealed as Bobby pulled back up to the edge of the sidewalk and waited patiently, head cocked to the side. "You ready?"

"I suppose so." Alex pushed off the bench, tightened her ponytail, and took a tentative step forward, the wheels of her rollerblades sinking slightly in the soft soil. She could feel Bobby's gentle eyes boring into the top of her head as she glared suspiciously at the asphalt trail in front of her.

"You've got this." Bobby held out a hand, and after only a moment's hesitation she accepted it. The second his fingers wrapped around hers, a blast of heat roasted her face and she felt a flutter in her stomach that was not easily suppressed. He turned to stand perpendicular to the sidewalk, forcing the foot traffic to surge around him like a boulder in a stream and buying her some space to take that final step.

_The dangers of life are infinite, and among them is safety. _

With the realization that, thanks to Bobby, she now had a random quote for every occasion, she stepped off the metaphoric safety of the spongy turf.

The second both skates touched the asphalt, her legs went out from under her. If Bobby hadn't kept a firm grip on her hand and hoisted her arm into the air, she would have smacked into the pavement ass first. As it was, her legs splayed like a newborn foal's on either side of his leg, leaving her essentially sitting on his skate, one hand hoisted in the air, the other pressing down against the bumpy pavement.

"Oops . . . uh . . . sorry. Hang on." Grabbing her underneath one arm, Bobby hauled her to her feet and held her there by the elbow until she found her center of gravity. She didn't miss his unsuccessful attempt to smother an amused smile.

"Okay, I'm good." Slowly Alex pushed back, her legs trembling but determined. As soon as she seemed steady, he released her elbow and moved back a step to give her some space. Her progress was slow, each movement stiff and robotic, but she eventually got moving. It took every ounce of her focus to keep upright, the tip of her tongue protruding as she concentrated. Her knees were tightly locked and she realized she was walking more than skating, but gliding without falling seemed impossible. A few times she stumbled, heart thudding with adrenaline, but she managed to keep her balance.

Alex was just starting to find her ungraceful stride when she heard the soft rumble of his chuckle behind her. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw Bobby gliding effortlessly a few feet behind her, a broad smile on his handsome face.

"What's so funny?" Alex shot him a mock dirty look, trying to hide a rueful grin.

"Nothing. You're doing great!" Bobby shot her an all-too-rare full wattage smile, and the effect knocked Alex off her feet.

Literally.

The change in her weight distribution as she looked behind threw off her already tremulous balance. She stumbled forward a few steps before crashing to the sidewalk. As she threw out her arms to break the fall, her left wrist took the brunt of the impact. It went numb for a full second before a throbbing ache settled in. Several joggers and a few pedestrians sidestepped her without even a glance as she slowly started to clamber to her feet.

_I may as well be invisible. I'm sure that's how the people who live under the city feel every day_.

She had managed to get up on one shaky knee by the time he appeared at her side.

"Are you okay?" Bobby's broad smile had been replaced with a frown of concern. He helped her back to both feet and led her over to a concrete ledge that surrounded a deteriorating flower bed. Once she had cautiously lowered herself down on it, he sat beside her. Gently, he picked up the wrist that she cradled gingerly in her lap and rotated it carefully to examine the ugly scrape that now marred the underside of her pale forearm. "Can you move your fingers?"

Wincing slightly, Alex wiggled the aching digits. "Yeah, I'm fine."

"You went down pretty hard." Bobby's long fingers gently traced the border of skin that surrounded the scrape. The touch elicited a pleasant shiver and she was suddenly hyper aware that their shoulders were pressed together and he wasn't pulling away. "You've got to be careful not to tense when you fall. You could do real damage."

"Easier said than done," Alex mumbled, gently extricating her arm from his grasp. She rotated her wrist and grimaced at the stab of pain that seemed to emanate from the bone. "I'm way too old for this."

Bobby smiled. "I don't think so." His gaze flicked to the path where another skater approached, her long gray hair and warm, lined face peeking out from beneath a red helmet. "See, there are . . . uh . . . people way older than you that skate."

"Really? I didn't know," Alex muttered sarcastically, her eyes following the direction of his gaze. Together, they watched the nimble skater perform a graceful pirouette before disappearing down an adjacent path. "Wow. I hope I'm still in that kind of physical shape when I'm her age."

"Mmm." Bobby's expression was thoughtful as he leaned back, the wilted leaves of the fading flowers tickling his arms. "I've always been more worried about staying mentally . . . uh . . . healthy than physically healthy as I age."

Alex turned her head to look at him, chin resting on her shoulder. "You're thinking about Rose."

He nodded. "It must have been scary for her, the dementia. Starting each day . . . uh . . . lucid and then gradually lapsing into a fog of confusion, to know that you are slowly slipping away and not be able to do anything to stop it."

Alex shrugged, scowling as the movement jolted her wrist. "I think it would be worse to be mentally there and have your body fail, to be completely aware as you lose control of things you once took for granted." She shuddered at the thought.

Bobby nodded slowly, picking at a piece of black thread that clung to his jeans. "That wouldn't be, well, pleasant either. I think losing my mind would still be worse. Everything I do, my work, my hobbies, they are all . . . uh . . . dependent on a strong mind. If I lost that, whether to age or . . . uh . . . schizophrenia, I would lose everything."

Alex twisted her bottom lip with her teeth as she rubbed her cheek against the soft fabric of her windbreaker. "You worry about that a lot, don't you? That you are schizophrenic too."

Bobby shrugged, suddenly inordinately fascinated with the jerky movement of an ant on the concrete block beside him. "Sometimes. I know the onset of schizophrenia in men tends to be at a much younger age than I am now, but you . . . uh . . . never know. The thought of losing my mind, and then everything else, still keeps me up at night sometimes."

"You wouldn't lose me." The words slipped from her mouth before she could stop them. She quickly reverted to humor to cover the blunder. "Is this where I'm supposed to tell you that you are more than just a pretty mind?"

Bobby stared at her intently for what felt like forever before allowing a small smile to curl up the left side of his mouth. For the second time that day, her heart thudded and her mouth went dry. She had to swallow hard and look away.

"Well, I guess we should give this another try!" Alex said a bit too brightly, pushing herself up with her uninjured hand.

She stood far too quickly, and her legs once again rebelled at the absence of stable ground beneath them. She fell again, this time straight into Bobby's lap. He managed to protect himself for the most part, but the impact still jarred a grunt of air from his lungs.

"I'm so sorry," Alex stammered, struggling to squirm off his lap.

Bobby's eyes were pinched shut in pain as he grabbed a hold of her arm and held it, stilling her. "Wait, wait, wait."

She stopped moving and looked at him nervously. He grimaced and took a deep breath in an attempt to get his wind back. Finally, he opened his eyes again. "Take it easy. You're going to hurt yourself, and me."

"Sorry," Alex muttered again, her face burning crimson. She moved slower this time, using the bench to steady herself as she maneuvered off him. When she finally managed to straighten all the way up without falling, she released a breath she didn't realize she had been holding. "Okay, I think I'm good now."

Bobby smiled dryly but didn't comment, getting to his own feet far more gingerly than the first time as she shuffled around to face the right direction.

"Here." Reaching out, he gently took her hand, linking his fingers with hers. Slowly, he pushed off, keeping his normally lengthy stride intentionally short to match hers. It took every fiber of her being to focus on her feet when she was so aware of the sensation in her hand. As they picked up speed, she leaned against him slightly, using his sturdy body to keep herself steady. Before she knew it, they were moving at a decent pace. With each successful stride, she relaxed more and more.

_Maybe she could get the hang of this after all, with his help. Then again, there wasn't much she couldn't do with his help._

That thought made her chest tighten and her throat close. Whether in fear, excitement, or sadness, she wasn't quite sure.

_Bobby. It was always meant to be Bobby._

"I can feel you thinking." Bobby's warm eyes drew her out of her reverie, his hand tightening slightly around hers. She felt a sweat break out on her brow that had nothing to do with physical exertion.

"I-"

Sudden movement in her peripheral vision caught Alex's attention. Eyes jerking back to the path, she caught sight of a pudgy Chihuahua intently sniffing a crack in the asphalt directly in front of them. If Bobby didn't take evasive maneuvers quickly, there was going to be a collision.

"Watch out!"

Bobby's head snapped forward, his eyes widening at the sight of the furry obstacle. He veered quickly to the left to avoid the animal, the move pressing their bodies together. They would have been fine if his skate hadn't knocked hers and sent her stumbling. She flailed, her feet tangling with his and tripping him up. They went down together like a house of cards, the only saving grace a pile of leaves that had been heaped up beside the path. Clumps of beautifully colored leaves went flying as they crash landed, scattering over the asphalt and skittering along with the breeze.

A homeless man glanced up from the garbage can he was rooting in at the sound of their laughter. He watched them attempt to untangle themselves for a moment before returning to his search for food. Shaking his head, he muttered crossly under his breath at the foolishness of people in love.


	7. Chapter 7

_A/N – This chapter is for Murph, my wonderful and talented beta!_

**Chapter 7 – Magnificat**

All morning she had the uneasy sense that she was toeing the edge of a precipice.

That unnerving sensation had been present the second she woke up and lingered throughout her morning ritual. She felt irritable and anxious, fumbling clumsily with her breakfast dishes and cringing excessively at an unexpected burst of static on the radio. Even tried and true methods for clearing her head failed to provide any relief. She had forced herself through a taxing run, returning soaked in sweat but still ill at ease. Neither a cold shower nor a hot herbal tea improved her mental state either. By early afternoon, the walls had started to close in and the sense of standing on the edge of a vague abyss still refused to abate.

In those interminable hours, she thought numbly that poor Doreen must have felt the same way every second of every day.

The difference of course was that Alex didn't have a controlling husband holding a figurative gun to her head to keep her from stepping away. No, she was toeing the edge of her own volition, because of her own choices. The harder she tried to forget that, the more fiercely her mind rebelled, pushing the truth to the surface until it hissed and bubbled and boiled over.

She was there because of Bobby.

No, not because of Bobby. Because of her _feelings_ for Bobby. Because she had let her guard down and allowed herself to experience those feelings, and now she was hooked. That was the real issue.

They had been spending a lot of time together after hours, arguably too much. It hadn't been a conscious decision, not something that they had actively elected to do. It had just happened, and neither had yet felt the need to acknowledge it. She was starting to not only enjoy his company outside the office, but to crave it. She hadn't felt that way about any man since Joe, and it frightened her.

Something had to give before they got in too deep and couldn't find their way back out.

The late afternoon breeze off the Atlantic Ocean was strong and teeming with salt. Alex could feel the annoying grit of sand in her teeth as she leaned on the railing of the Coney Island Boardwalk. The early October sky had grown overcast as the day progressed and only a few hardcore beach lovers remained, tossing a Frisbee back and forth near the water. Behind her, the Coney Island midway was a blur of garish neon lights and brassy organ music.

"Hey."

Bobby's tall frame suddenly appeared to her right, a large bag of Skittles in one hand, a Nathan's Famous hotdog in the other. The hotdog bled a colorful mixture of mustard, catsup, and relish into its wrapper. "I got here a bit early, thought I would get us both a treat."

"Thanks." Alex accepted the bag of candy, grateful for the distraction from her thoughts. Leaning back against the railing, she ripped it open, deftly catching one of the candies that tried to escape.

Bobby nodded in acknowledgment, resting his hip against the railing beside her. His brown corduroy jacket flapped in the wind as he tried to wrestle the hotdog free from its messy paper prison.

They ate together in silence, watching enthusiastic clusters of people stroll down the boardwalk and disappear into the midway. One of those people, a harried woman struggling to keep tabs on five excited children, reminded Alex painfully of Doreen.

"Have you heard from Tom?"

Bobby nodded, swallowing a mouthful of bread. "Yeah, he says hi. He's been doing a lot of work with Doreen's mom. They have a good case. He's pretty confident that she'll get custody of Adam."

"Thank God," Alex murmured. She brushed a clump of hair out of her eyes, only to have the wind promptly return it to its original position. "That poor kid. He's had to be mature beyond his years, protecting his mother like that. He deserves the opportunity to be a kid. He won't get that living with his father."

An unidentifiable emotion flashed over Bobby's face as he nodded and took another bite of his hotdog. A dollop of bright red catsup dripped on his chin and he swiped at it with a paper napkin.

"You can associate with Adam," Alex stated gently, well aware of just how close to home this particular case could have come for Bobby.

_Not that he would ever share that with you._

The wind ruffled Bobby's hair as he shrugged and predictably distanced himself from the topic. "Lots of . . . uh . . . people could. Pretty much anyone who has grown up in a house with a mentally ill parent could associate with what Adam went through. I'm not, you know, unique in that way."

"Maybe not, but you're the only one I care about," Alex mumbled softly under her breath, thin fingers attempting to corral her windblown hair.

_Isn't that the true definition of insanity? Doing the same thing and expecting a different result? Why do you even bother trying to get him to open up?_

Bobby frowned, the last bite of his hotdog halted halfway to his mouth. "I'm sorry? What did you say?"

Alex pinched the bridge of her nose, closed her eyes, and shook her head. A light headache flirted with her temples. "Nothing."

When she reopened her eyes, Bobby was eying her with that trademark intensity that made her feel exposed and vulnerable even under three layers of clothing. Finally he popped the last bite of hotdog into his mouth, crumpled up the wrapper and tossed it in a green garbage can to his left, wiping the leftover crumbs surreptitiously on his jeans. When he turned back to face her, his lips formed words that died before articulation. She was about to make a smart remark about cats and tongues when he finally managed to croak out a sentence.

"So you . . . uh . . . wanted to . . . uh . . . you know . . . talk?"

_Not really. I'd rather you just kiss me and take me away from here, but we both know that can't happen._

As if reading her mind, a particularly strong gust of wind chose that moment to race in from the ocean, spitting drops of salty mist over the partners. The force of the gust actually sent Alex staggering into Bobby. His solid body weathered the unexpected attack with ease, his warm hand on her hip preventing the wind from pushing her around any further.

Apparently the universe was going to make her work for this.

Stepping back with an irritated sigh, Alex struggled to scrape the hair off her face. It fought her, tangling and twisting, and irrational tears of frustration pricked her eyes. She finally managed to gather it all together except for one thick, glossy strand that fell directly in front of her eyes. Reaching out, Bobby trapped it between two fingers and tucked it back behind her ear. His palm brushed her cheek and she automatically turned her face into his hand. When she realized what she had done, she jerked away.

_This is EXACTLY what you came here to put a stop to. How easily you forget, Eames._

"I really need to get my hair cut," Alex muttered by way of apology as heat flooded her cheeks. The side of her face smoldered from his touch.

"I like it long." Bobby's voice was gentle, his eyes soft and liquid. "It's pretty."

With each tentative word, Alex could feel the edge of the precipice crumble beneath her feet. It wouldn't hold much longer. They were at a turning point and she had two choices: step off the ledge or step back. Only one choice appealed to her, but their status as partners eliminated that choice right off the bat.

Nodding in the direction of the bustling midway, Alex tucked the bag of Skittles into her purse with a sad, reluctant sigh. "C'mon, let's go someplace we can talk without pulling a Mary Poppins."

It was time to step back, before there was no going back at all.

* * *

The second Bobby set foot on the Wonder Wheel he regretted polishing off that hotdog.

The suspended red and yellow car bobbed on its thick cable as he stepped in, ducking to avoid banging his forehead off the top of the door frame. Fighting an irrational but adrenaline-inducing fear that the cable would snap under his weight, Bobby carefully scooted across the length of the car and lowered himself to the vinyl seat, trying to move as lightly on his feet as possible.

When a gust of wind sent the car swaying, Bobby gripped the steel edge and battled a wave of nausea that shot up his esophagus. Alex slid in beside him, her hip bumping his, and the ride attendant slammed the door closed with a clang behind her. He winced at the sound and closed his eyes, praying that the sudden unprecedented case of claustrophobia would pass quickly.

"Are you okay?" Alex pressed the back of her hand against his forehead as if feeling for fever. "You look a little green."

"I'm fine," Bobby lied, tensing as the ride shifted up to allow the next set of passengers to board. "I just haven't been on a ride like this since I was, you know, a kid. It's going to take my stomach a second to get its sea legs back."

Dropping her hand from his forehead, Alex leaned over to peer outside. The movement made the car sway and Bobby had to grip the seat to stop from grabbing her and holding her still. "I'm pretty sure I can still get the attendant's attention. Do you want to get off?"

"No, no, no, no, no," Bobby insisted with a frantic wave of his hand and a wan smile. "It's fine. I'll be fine in a second."

Alex frowned at him for a moment and then shrugged, settling back into her seat. "If you're sure."

Nauseous or not, he was sure. When she had asked him to meet her in Coney Island to "talk", he had quickly agreed. Something was up. He heard it in her voice then and could see it in her body language now. He hoped that she wanted to talk about the same thing he did - the subtle shift in their relationship, the change in the direction of the wind. It had been the elephant in the room since that night she dropped him off at his apartment after the Carlson case. He had wanted to bring it up too, but at the end of the day it was just like his mother always said. He didn't have the guts. Not when there was so much on the line.

They settled into companionable but expectant silence as the Ferris wheel inched up and the other cars began to fill. Alex stared out over the ocean, hands folded in her lap while Bobby focused on the rounded toe of his running shoe, trying to convince his stomach that the car wasn't swaying.

It was Alex who eventually broke the silence. "I've been having trouble sleeping."

Clearing his throat, Bobby wiped his sweaty palms on his pants and tried to still the tremors in his fingers. "Uh . . . do you know why?"

"I keep seeing those three beautiful boys every time I close my eyes." Alex swallowed hard, Adam's apple bobbing. "Just when I think I'm getting pretty good at blocking out the gruesome parts of our job, a kid dies and it's back to square one."

Bobby felt a brief, irrational stab of disappointment that even his own mental pictures of the murdered children failed to take the edge off.

_What did you think was going to happen, Goren? Did you think she asked you here to profess an undying love? Get real. You're not that lucky. Give your head a shake._

Sighing resignedly, Bobby stretched his arm across the back of the vinyl seat. "The kids are always the hardest."

Alex rubbed her right temple, a sure sign that she had a headache brewing. For the first time he noticed the dark circles under her eyes, evidence of her professed trouble sleeping. "I just can't understand how a mother could do that to her children."

Bobby shrugged as the wheel crept up another notch. "Post partum depression can be so debilitating. Sufferers don't see any way out. Doreen honestly believed that her children would be better off in heaven, where she could be a good mother. When you are that deep in a mental swamp, it's nearly impossible to drag yourself out of it without help, and poor Doreen had her husband holding her head under."

"I know," Alex acquiesced, chewing on her thumbnail absently. "I hope she gets the help she needs and so does Adam."

Far below, the door of the last car slammed and locks clicked into place. The wheel groaned to life and began to turn, gradually picking up speed. The silence between them was rife with words unsaid, and it pressed down on Bobby's broad shoulders until he surrendered.

He had to know for sure.

"So you asked me to meet you . . . uh . . . here so we could talk about the . . . uh . . . the . . . uh . . . the case?" It had been meant as a statement, but his voice rose tentatively at the end.

Alex turned slightly to look at him, weary resignation weighing down her features. Behind her expressive eyes, he knew options were being evaluated.

Eventually, she sighed. "No, that's not why I wanted to talk to you. I wanted to talk to you about . . . me and you."

Bobby nodded slowly, a mixture of anticipation and dread curdling in his stomach. "Okay."

"What's going on between us, Bobby?" Alex shifted away from him on the seat, creating literal and figurative distance between them as she turned to face him more fully. "What are we doing?"

"I don't know." His answer was feeble but honest. "I just know there's something, at least on my end. There has been for . . . awhile."

"It's not just on your end." Alex sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. "We're playing a very dangerous game here."

Bobby ran a hand over his face tiredly, stubble rasping like sandpaper against the skin of his palm. "I know."

Alex traced a rip in the vinyl seat, tugging at a protruding tuft of cotton. "We shouldn't be doing this. We shouldn't be here together. We both know that. It's complicating things, and if anyone were to see us . . ."

Bobby nodded, twisting his hands together. "There would be hell to pay. I know. And yet here we are."

"I completely understand the reasons why we need to stop." Alex tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, gaze distant as she looked over his shoulder at the grey sky beyond. "The problem is I don't want to."

"Alex . . ."

Her short, too-good-to-be-true admission melted the last of Bobby's reservations. He immediately moved to slide closer to her, but she held up a hand to halt him. Below them, the Ferris wheel's motor clicked off and the ride began to slow, coasting on its residual momentum.

"It's not fair." The bitterness in Alex's voice was unmistakable. "We have committed our entire working lives thus far to protecting others by facing and vanquishing the ugliest parts of human nature. After what we've seen, after all we've sacrificed, we deserve a little happiness, we deserve the chance to experience the best of human nature. "

Leaning back, Bobby rested his head against the steel shell of the car. Reaching over, he brushed the back of his hand along the line of her cheekbone sadly. "We do deserve that. After all we've sacrificed, we deserve to be able to explore where this . . . us . . . could go. Unfortunately it's like Doreen said. People don't often get what they deserve."

"Maybe it's time we did."

As the big wheel shuddered to a groaning halt, Alex kissed him.

He kissed her back, and together they stepped off the ledge.

* * *

_A/N – Thanks for reading! I am debating whether to continue the story or allow it to end naturally here at such a sweet moment. Please feel free to let me know via PM or review if you have feelings either way! Should it continue, or has it run its course now that it's obvious our heroes are going to follow their hearts? _


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8 – Silver Lining**

"He's like my partner, who wants to be left alone to do what he's good at, catching bad guys."

_Where in the hell did that come from?_

Alex shook her head in mute disgust as she strolled down the residential side street, tugging the sleeves of her black trench coat down over her wrists. A cold snap had shocked the trees into shedding the last of their brittle autumn leaves and the heels of her shoes ground the forgotten foliage into a jagged dust that littered the sidewalk. A squirrel darted between the bare maples to her left, an acorn crammed between its teeth.

_Life must be pretty simple for a squirrel. Living by instinct alone, no need to think. That's the way to go. Thinking just gets you into trouble. _

The guilt she experienced over her completely uncalled for dig in the interrogation room clung to her like a cheap perfume. It had been a low blow, for absolutely no reason. The second it popped out of her mouth, she had wished the floor would open up and consume her. When that failed to happen, she prayed silently that Bobby had been questioning Kenderson in the other room and hadn't overheard. The injured look on his face when they finally reconnected confirmed that that wish hadn't been granted either.

Either way, it was still a mistake. A huge mistake. The Captain _was_ listening after all, and an odd snipe like that would not have flown undetected under his radar.

_Idiot_. _It's only been a week and a half since you let your guard down and kissed him, and already your big mouth is getting you in trouble. You're going to get busted for sure._

She had tossed and turned all night after they solved the case, trying to understand the motivation behind the snide comment. In the moment it had seemed a mystery, but it hadn't taken much mental reflection to get to the heart of the matter.

_Have you ever been in love?_

For an irrational second, Alex had wondered if Sheila knew. Had she seen through their conscious effort to maintain a respectable distance between them at all times? Had she noticed that they tried not to look at each other more than was strictly necessary? Had Sheila somehow uncovered their little secret?

Of course she hadn't, but for a second that question had an air of malignancy. She was embarrassed now that the question had flustered her, but the blurted remark was incontrovertible evidence it had.

Not that there was much of a secret to uncover anyway, other than the kiss. If Alex had thought that addressing the unnamed 'something' between them would bring everything into focus, she was sadly mistaken. She may have taken the leap, but the ground she currently stood on felt no more solid than the disintegrating ledge on which she had started.

_Beneath one deep, another deep opens._

Some of the uncertainty was undoubtedly due to the fact that they hadn't had a second alone since she kissed him. No sooner had they clambered off the Wonder Wheel, faces flushed and eyes bright, than their phones chirped, duty called, and life got in the way.

The night of Rebekah Todman's murder, she had thought they might finally have a chance to discuss the next step. They had made plans to meet at a little pub near Bobby's apartment for dinner and drinks. He had just held the door open for her when their phones rang and once again their evening was put on hold. She had been relieved when the detective in charge had appeared to have the preliminary work under control, but her visions of a nice dinner and some clarity had been eviscerated when Bobby had refused to let the case go.

Did he not want to spend time with her as badly as she did with him? Was he already regretting the little that had transpired between them? It was a sobering and all too plausible option. Combine that uncertainty with a seemingly innocuous comment about love and the result was a malevolent snub that still made her wince days later.

In short, it was a recipe for disaster.

Across the street, a park about a quarter of the size of a city block played host to a teeter-totter, three sets of swings, two curving plastic slides, a dormant splash pad, and a dilapidated basketball court. The happy shriek of elated children and the ringing slap of rubber against asphalt carried on the still air as Alex slid between two parked cars and cut across the road.

The nylon net sagged off the hoop on the basketball court, beaten down by years of consistent use and inhospitable weather. The pavement was cracked and shocks of decaying greenery sprouted up toward the sun from each crevice. The court lines, already painted a thousand times, were due for another coat. Despite the court's general state of disrepair, an intense game of three-on-three waged on across the blacktop.

She caught sight of him right away. He was easily the tallest person on the court, his long limbs affording him a competitive advantage that his opponents could have contested was unfair. He moved with the same surprising and impressive grace he had demonstrated on his rollerblades as he dribbled the ball around a middle-aged mustachioed man and went in for a layup. The ball ricocheted off the backboard and swished effortlessly through the ratty nylon.

He was good. With proper training, he probably could have been great. Too bad his father had ruined that for him.

It was different to see him in sportswear. She was so used to jackets, ties, dress pants and button up shirts that the blue and green basketball shorts seemed oddly out of place against his long legs. Despite the cool autumn weather, the players had elected to use the trusty 'shirts versus skins' method to distinguish teams. Bobby had been drafted by the latter, and the sun glinted off the sheen of sweat on his bare chest and shoulders. It was the first time she had seen him without a shirt and she covertly admired his build and the soft dusting of hair that covered his chest and abdomen. As she leaned her shoulder against the corner of the chain link fence that surrounded the court and watched him sink a three pointer, an emotion embarrassingly close to lust made it difficult to breathe evenly.

The other five men on the court all varied in age and appearance and were unfamiliar to her. The game, though obviously competitive, was also good-natured. There was plenty of friendly jostling and posturing as well as claps on the back and congratulations for a job well done. Bobby looked surprisingly in his element, laughing, needling, and joking with the other players. He looked, dare she say, happy. It was a rare emotion for someone who had grown up and continued to endure in a world where congratulations were rare and claps on the back were outnumbered by slaps on the wrist.

He was on his way to the faded free throw line when he caught sight of her. Bobby did a double take and stopped dead in his tracks, wide smile weakening until his lips were pressed into a narrow line. He was so stunned that he didn't even flinch when one of his opponents pitched the ball in his direction. It hit him in the shoulder and continued merrily on its way, each successive bounce diminishing in size until the ball finally rolled into the chain link fence beside her and came to rest.

"Alex?"

Bobby motioned to the other players for a minute and jogged toward her, stopping on the way to grab a blue and white sleeveless shirt off the wooden bleachers beside the court. The other players watched him go, elbowing each other, grinning at her, and whispering. Reaching down to retrieve the basketball, Alex reflected dryly that men really never did grow up.

"Did we catch a case?" Bobby was breathing heavily when he finally made it over to her, a few curls plastered to his forehead with sweat.

Studiously ignoring the unwelcome disappointment that stemmed from his decision to put a shirt back on in her presence, she tossed him the ball in an attempt at nonchalance. "Well hello to you too."

Bobby looked flummoxed, brows furrowing. He wiped a line of sweat from his chin on the collar of his shirt. "Uh . . . sorry. Hi."

Alex smiled, linking her fingers through the fence. "No, no case. I was in the neighborhood and just thought I would stop by to say hi. Your doorman said that he thought you had come over here to shoot some hoops."

_Just in the neighborhood my ass. Liar._

Bobby's shoulders slumped in relief for a moment before he straightened again. "I thought you . . . uh . . . were hanging out with a friend today."

Alex shrugged, forcing herself to stop watching the muscles in his arms flex as he passed the ball back and forth between hands. "Yeah, she bailed on me."

"You should have called me." Tucking the ball under one arm, Bobby glanced over his shoulder at the small group of men still watching the proceedings with interest. "If I would have known you were free, I would have . . . uh . . . kept my schedule open. I told these clowns I would shoot some hoops with them and then go out for a few beers. Sorry."

"No need to apologize." Alex playfully knocked the basketball out from under his arm. She caught it on the first bounce and dribbled it a few times before passing it back. "I'm capable of amusing myself."

"I know, but . . . you know . . ." Bobby struggled to complete the sentence, eventually giving up with a shrug. "I can back out of the beers. We could go out for dinner."

Alex shook her head with a warm smile. "No, that's okay. You made a commitment. Go and have fun with the guys. I'll give you a call tomorrow before I leave for my sister's."

"You sure?" Bobby shuffled his feet as he absently dribbled the ball, eyes locked on her face. "They won't care."

"I'm sure. I'll talk to you tomorrow. " Feeling awkward, Alex shoved her hands in her pockets and nodded in the direction of the court behind him. "You'd better get back before they give you a penalty for delay of game."

Her attempt at humor was rewarded with a genuine smile. "Wrong sport. Let me at least walk you back to your car."

Before she could argue, Bobby had turned on his heels and trotted back to the group. Tossing the ball to one of his teammates, he provided a brief, inaudible explanation to the player closest to him before jogging back over to her. As she turned to retrace her steps to her car, their arms brushed against each other. She was very aware of the fact that, in theory, under their new relationship rules she could reach over and hold his hand. While that thought made her feel warm inside, she didn't, and he didn't reach for her hand either.

They walked in silence until a busy street halted their progress. As they stood on the corner and waited for the light to change, Alex cleared her throat and scratched her neck nervously.

"I owe you an apology, Bobby. That comment I made about you just wanting to be left alone, comparing you to Wesley. That was out of line. I don't know what came over me."

Bobby shrugged but wouldn't meet her eyes, instead observing the scattered pedestrians around them. "It surprised me, but it was effective. You made Sheila think." He paused for a moment before dragging his eyes back to her. "Is that what you really think of me?"

"I used to, but not anymore." Shaking her head as she recalled the conversation, Alex chuckled darkly. "Not only did I make Sheila think, I probably made Deakins think too. So much for caution."

Bobby massaged his forearm, wincing slightly. "Don't worry. I don't think he thought anything of it. If he did, he hid it well."

Alex sighed. "I hope not. I'm sorry. I was just frustrated that we haven't really been able to talk since Coney Island and I was irritated our dinner got interrupted the night before. When you seemed more interested in the case than me . . ."

Biting her lip, she allowed that thought to linger in the air unfinished for a moment before continuing. "Don't take this the wrong way, but I guess I always thought that of the two of us, I would be the most successful in separating business from personal. I was married to another cop after all. When I saw that you could do it but I couldn't, it bothered me. That comment had nothing to do with you. It was all about me and my shortcomings."

As the traffic light beside them turned amber, it was Bobby's turn to chortle. "I didn't do a particularly great job either. Remember when Burke said that he thought Rebekah had been . . . uh . . . intimate with Wesley because she was freshly showered and he had seemed anxious to leave? You said that sounded about right and then looked right at me. It was a harmless joke, you've made similar ones tons of times before, but I immediately started panicking that Burke and his lawyer thought you were directing that comment at me and would see right through us. I mean, I knew you weren't, because we haven't . . . you know, but I was so . . . uh . . . flustered and anxious that I couldn't get it together even after we were done questioning Burke. I can't believe I dropped all those files, and then backed into the door. You think the Captain didn't notice that?"

Remembering the scene, Alex laughed. "What a pair. The sad part is that we haven't really even started anything yet, and already we're having trouble holding it together."

The walk signal flashed and they stepped out onto the roadway, sidestepping a jogger and three baby carriages as they turned onto Bobby's street. In the bus shelter on the corner, a couple bickered about the best route to get to Hell's Kitchen.

"We . . . uh . . . knew it wouldn't be easy I guess," Bobby said quietly once the crowd from the corner had disbursed behind them. "I'm not sure we anticipated it would be this hard though, especially already."

Alex's heart sunk a little, but she carefully arranged her features into a neutral expression. "You know, we don't have to do this Bobby. All we've done is kiss once. We could chalk it up to poor judgment, understandable after a case in which three innocent children were murdered. It's not too late to walk away."

As they drew up beside Alex's car, Bobby stopped and turned to face her, his warm eyes on her face. "Then we'd be lying to ourselves. It was anything but bad judgment."

Pulling her car keys out of her pocket, Alex jingled them absently. "So what do we do?"

Bobby inhaled slowly and glanced down the street, bouncing lightly on the soles of his feet. "We try to be more careful and not completely paranoid I guess."

She smiled as she leaned a hip against the side of her Honda. "Hopefully that's not easier said than done."

Bobby returned the smile. "I'm sure it probably will be, but I'm committed to doing all I can to make it work. I know that this job . . . uh . . . is important, to both of us. Maybe it's selfish, but I want it all. You and the job. If there is any way we can have a relationship and still keep our partnership, I'm willing to try it. It won't be a completely normal relationship. We'll have to be careful where we go, what we do in public, but I think it's worth it."

"It's a good thing I think normal is highly overrated." Reaching out, Alex straightened the collar of his T-shirt. "Thanks for the escort. Now get back to your game before your friends think I've abducted you."

Glancing down the street, Bobby hesitated, clearing his throat twice and assiduously avoiding her eyes. "Going back to that kiss . . . was it . . . uh . . . okay? I mean . . . uh . . . I know the kiss was incredible for me, but was it . . . was I . . . ?"

Trailing off, Bobby shrugged helplessly while his eyes pleaded with her to answer the question without any further painful prompting.

A slow smile curled up on Alex's lips as she stared at him incredulously.

_Was the kiss okay? Was he any good? Was he crazy? No Bobby, it wasn't okay. It was only the best kiss I have ever experienced in my life. Leave it to you to doubt yourself._

Folding her arms across her chest, she shook her head with a bemused smile. "Yes, Bobby. The kiss was okay."

She may have had the upper hand, but only for a moment.

"I'm glad. I was pretty nervous." Looking up and down the street and finding it empty, Bobby gently pried the car keys out of her hand and placed them on top of the vehicle. "Just in case, I think I should try again."

Cupping her face in his hands, he kissed her softly and she melted. Stepping closer, he pinned her body gently against the car. His mouth was warm, sweet, soft, and inviting. To say he was a good kisser was a huge understatement. He knew exactly how much pressure to apply before pulling back slightly and forcing her to reach for him to prolong the kiss. The result was a give and take that increased the intensity of the moment and release fire into her veins. She wrapped her arms around him, hands splaying against his back through the damp T-shirt while he cupped her face in one hand and kept the other pressed against the window of her car.

Someone whimpered, and when she was able to think clearly again, Alex was pretty sure it had been her.

The kiss lasted until the sound of a diesel engine turning onto the street forced them apart and back into their separate lives.

If she hadn't known better, she could have sworn that her car floated all the way home.


	9. Chapter 9

_A/N – All credit for the idea behind this chapter goes to my awesome friend and beta, Murph!_

**Chapter 9 – Inert Dwarf**

He had never been this nervous on a date in his life.

Even on his very first "first date", when he was seventeen and had treated his high school crush Laura to ice cream, he hadn't felt this out of sorts. In the thirty minutes he had been seated at the bar, the small of his back had accumulated an impressive pool of sweat that he was sure had stained through his white undershirt and navy blue dress shirt. His stomach had contorted into a painful knot and his shoulders sat in a tense line. He could feel the material of his suit jacket strain against his broad back as he tugged irritably on his tie. His hands were clammy but steady as he lifted the tumbler of scotch to his lips and drained it in two long gulps, the alcohol burning all the way down. The tumbler had left a ring of condensation on the bar and he absently dragged a finger through it, smudging the perfect circle.

_C'mon, Goren. Pull yourself together._

A panel of mirrored glass hung over the bar of the Algonquin Arts Theatre and Bobby caught an unwelcome glimpse of his own dour expression when he glanced up. He tried to distract himself by first counting and then inspecting the array of disembodied feet reflected in the mirror, colorful high heels mingling with drab but shiny loafers. The muted hum of conversation that had been present when he first arrived had escalated to a more insistent drone as the time to curtain grew closer and more enthusiastic theatre patrons filed into the building.

She was late.

Pulling his phone out of the pocket of his grey suit jacket, Bobby glanced at the display. No messages. No missed calls. He tapped the phone on the bar a few times before flicking his wrist and sending it spinning in a hypnotic circle on the smooth surface.

Maybe she had changed her mind. About the date. About him.

He wouldn't blame her if she had.

As he waited for the bartender to work her way down to his end of the bar, Bobby's thoughts drifted to John Manotti. His financials had shown regular donations to the arts and to this theatre in particular. Had he ever sidled up to this very bar and ordered a drink to numb the pain of knowing that it was all slipping away? To quell the fear of losing everything that he had achieved - his status, his woman?

It was a fear Bobby knew all too well.

He had scorned Manotti for his heartless manipulation of those around him, but if push came to shove, would he act any differently? If all that mattered to him was threatened, to what lengths would he go to protect himself? Manotti was on the verge of losing everything that he felt made him special. What would he do if his life's work was threatened? He was nothing without Major Case, without Alex. Short those two important pieces of his life, he may as well not exist.

Would he kill to protect himself from the threat? Could he be absolutely sure he wouldn't?

"Is this seat taken?"

Jolted out of his macabre reverie, Bobby swiveled around on the vinyl bar stool to find Alex standing beside him, long black dress coat folded crisply over her arms. His relief at her arrival was quickly washed away with a tide of other emotions that tightened the knot of anxiety in his gut. She looked amazing in a soft purple sweater dress that fell mid-thigh, a pair of dark tights, and wedge heels. A line of hoop earrings in each ear and a long gold necklace completed the ensemble. Her hair, long and loose, shone in the fluorescent lights. Her smile was brilliant, eyes warm and sparkling as they met his. The overall effect stole his breath and left him scrambling for words.

_Spit it out. Tell her how stunning she looks._

Clearing his throat, Bobby fiddled with the buttons on his jacket. "You're late."

_Oh, well done!_

Alex was momentarily startled by the reproach, the luminosity of her smile dimming only slightly into a wry smirk. "Thank you, Captain Punctuality. For the record, I was actually here on time, but the lineup to get into the building was moving slower than molasses. If I had known you were timing me, I would have pulled out my badge and forced my way to the front."

Bobby flushed an unflattering shade of crimson, embarrassed by his inhospitable greeting. "S-s-sorry. I didn't mean to . . . uh . . ."

_Be an ass_. _I was trying to tell you how amazing you look._

The flashing of the lobby lights signaling that the play would be commencing shortly saved him from further folly. Sliding off the stool, Bobby maneuvered the buttons back through the eyelets of his jacket and smoothed the polyester over his stomach. "Well, I guess we should take our seats."

_Captain Punctuality and Captain Obvious all rolled into one. What a catch you are, Goren._

Alex hesitated for a moment before turning, her eyes roving over his body. Bobby shuffled his feet self-consciously at her scrutiny and tried to discreetly suck in his gut. "What?"

"That's a nice suit on you." Alex straightened his tie slightly and ran a hand over the lapel of his jacket. He wondered if she could feel the thudding of his heart beneath the material. "You look really good in grey."

"Uh . . . thanks. My mom picked it out for me."

_Really? What the hell is wrong with you?_

As they followed the crush of people flowing toward the theatre doors, Bobby searched in vain for the confidence that, less than a week ago, had led to an incredible kiss against her car. It had obviously deserted him at some point during the last case. He was so busy berating himself that he nearly collided with Alex when she stopped abruptly at the end of the line. The sweet fragrance of her shampoo wafted through the air as she ran a hand through her hair.

At least, Bobby consoled himself, he had picked good seats_. _They were in the middle of a row close enough to the stage that they would be able to see the expressions on the actors' faces, but not so close as to leave them with sore neck muscles.

_One thing right out of a million. Not really something to be bragging about, Goren._

He stood politely as she got settled, spreading her coat along the back of the chair and smoothing the dress over her hips. The soft fabric chair creaked under his weight as he lowered himself beside her, their arms touching on the shared armrest. When she angled herself toward him and crossed her legs, her foot brushed against his shin lightly. Her dress had ridden up and even though she tried to tug it down a little, it still exposed plenty of leg. He couldn't help staring as he imagined what it would feel like to run his hand over her legs and feel the soft material of the tights against his palm.

Or even better, what it would feel like to slide his hands along her thigh and up her dress to explore what she was wearing underneath . . .

The thought made him stir and he shifted uncomfortably in his seat, trying to conceal the physical reaction to his vivid mental pictures with his suit jacket. As luck would have it, an elderly couple had just sat down beside Alex and engaged her in conversation, offering him a moment's reprieve to yank his mind out of the gutter and calm his body.

_You can't even speak like a normal human being around her, and you honestly think you would have the confidence to put your hand up her dress? Good luck with that._

The play had received rave reviews, and based on the waves of laughter and applause, the first act was living up to those reviews. Bobby would have enjoyed it if he hadn't been so distracted by her presence, preoccupied with overanalyzing every tilt of her head, every twitch of her hand, trying to decipher any signal embedded in the movement. She kept her shoulder pressed lightly against his arm and the hand closest to him resting on her leg. It would have taken no effort at all on his part to reach over and take her hand, or place his own hand possessively on her knee.

No matter how loud his heart screamed at him to do it, he just couldn't summon the courage. She was completely out of his league, and he knew it. Despite what she said, despite the fact she had kissed him and let him kiss her, he couldn't shake the certainty that he was neither what she wanted nor what she needed. He was too scarred, too eccentric, too volatile, too . . . everything.

In short, he was completely unworthy. She was just too nice to tell him that.

* * *

When the lights came up at intermission, Bobby blinked rapidly as if waking from a dream. All around him, other theatre goers were standing and filing down the aisles, chattering excitedly about the first act. His own memories of the play were fleeting and vague, and he hoped desperately Alex wasn't going to want to discuss it.

"I'm going to the ladies, and then I'm going to get something to drink." Alex stood, stretched, and wiggled her dress down over her hips in such a way that did nothing to keep his mind from straying back to the gutter. "Did you want anything?"

_Oh, I want something all right._

"Uh . . . I'll come with you. " Bobby shot up out of his seat, straightening his jacket and shaking the kinks out of his long legs. "I mean, not . . . you know . . . come with you to the ladies, but . . . uh . . . come with you to the uh . . . the . . . uh . . . bar. To get a drink."

Raising her eyebrows, Alex smiled dryly. "I figured that's what you meant. Are you okay? You seem kind of . . . off tonight."

"Fine, fine, I'm fine," Bobby mumbled as he spun on his heels and took off down the aisle. Not all of the patrons had elected to leave the theatre during intermission, and he had to apologize multiple times as he stepped on feet and bashed knees in his hurry to escape the close confines of their seats.

Waiting in line at the bar, Bobby focused on inhaling deeply and exhaling slowly to settle his jangled nerves. It was only Alex. _His_ Alex. The woman he trusted more than anyone, who had supported him in good times and in bad. Before their kiss on the Wonder Wheel, would he have been this nervous going to the theatre with her?

_Of course not, but the parameters were clear then. You knew what you could and couldn't do. Now, the possibilities are greater and the consequences more dire._

By the time he made it to the front of the line and purchased two small glasses of wine, Alex had returned from the washroom and was waiting for him on the outskirts of the milling crowd. As he squeezed between people, his eyes never left her, struck again by her softness, her femininity. It was a sharp contrast to her intentionally understated appearance in the squad room and a look he hoped to see more often.

"Here you go." Bobby thrust the glass in her direction with more force than he had intended. The sudden inertia sloshed the liquid inside up and over the rim. It spilt on Alex's hand and dripped down to the tiled floor like a volley of tears. She took an automatic step back but not quick enough to avoid getting a splotch of white wine on her dress.

"Uh . . . sorry."

"It's okay." Alex shook her hand to dislodge the few remaining drops. "Better white than red. It'll wash." Taking a sip, she eyed him carefully over the rim of the glass. "Are you sure you're fine? You seem jumpy."

"I'm good." Swallowing hard, Bobby motioned in her direction with his free hand. "That dress is really . . . uh . . ."

"Bobby Goren? Is that you?"

At the sound of his name, Bobby and Alex both turned and scanned the crowd with cops' eyes, searching for the source of the voice. A few feet away, a tall man stood facing them, his long blonde hair pulled back into a ponytail that fell halfway down his back. He was scarecrow thin, the jacket of his black suit a size too big for his slender frame. His narrow neck bore a pronounced Adam's apple and his eyes were hidden behind thick black glasses.

The last time Bobby had seen this man, he had been clad in mottled green infantry fatigues. He also hadn't needed the white cane that now tapped the floor in front of him.

"Mark. Wow . . . uh . . . how are you?" Bobby automatically offered a handshake before recognizing the unseen gesture was futile.

"I'm good, really good." Mark's smile was wide and infectious. "I thought I heard your voice. Small world, hey?"

"The smallest," Bobby agreed with a half smile. Slipping the previously proffered hand into his pocket, he rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet. "How long has it been?"

"I'm not sure we want to figure that out exactly. Could make us feel mighty old." Tilting his head slightly, Mark turned sightless eyes in Alex's direction. "And who's this you're with? She smells fantastic."

Bobby shuffled his feet uncomfortably, glancing back and forth between Mark and Alex. "This is my . . . uh . . ."

What exactly was she? A friend, definitely, but his feelings for her went far beyond friendly. Girlfriend didn't seem right either. It wasn't a serious enough word to describe a woman so deeply embedded in his life that he couldn't imagine it without her.

Finally, he settled for the only word that accurately described what she meant to him on so many levels.

"Uh . . . my partner, Alexandra Eames. Alex, this is Mark Crawford. Mark and I met when I was working in the Army CID in Germany."

"We bonded over a shared interest in art, predominantly mine." Mark's contagious laugh earned smiles from Bobby, Alex, and several other people within earshot.

"Mark is an extremely talented painter," Bobby explained, lowering his head to be sure Alex could hear him over the swelling bubble of conversation in the lobby. "Landscapes, still life, people. He sold some of his pieces here in the city before he enlisted. He did some incredible works featuring a few of the small villages in Germany while we were there."

Mark grinned cheerfully in reminiscence. "Yeah, I was pretty proud of those pieces. Got them hanging in my apartment now. Can't see them anymore, but when I run my fingers over the canvas and feel the brush strokes, I remember exactly what they look like."

Rampant curiosity forced the question that had been burning on Bobby's tongue out of his mouth. "How did you end up blind?"

"Bobby!" Alex admonished, smacking him in the arm with the back of her hand. "You don't ask questions like that!"

Mark laughed heartily as Bobby flushed. "It's okay, Alexandra. I've spent enough time with Bobby to know that he doesn't do well with social convention. It was a homemade explosive device. We were raiding an apartment in Germany, maybe a few months after you came back to the States. I was closest to the explosion. The blast scarred my corneas beyond repair. They said it had the same effect as if I'd been staring directly into the sun for three straight hours."

Bobby cringed at the imagined physical and mental pain. "I'm sorry. Must have been really hard, you know, adapting."

Mark shrugged, switching his cane between hands. "Hey, I'm still here. It could have been a lot worse. I'm really lucky. The hardest part was not being able to paint anymore. I lived for my painting."

_Just like John Manotti lived for his theories. Just like you live for your profiling work. _

"So how did you manage?" He blurted out the question, anxious for the answer. "You know, losing something that defined who you were? The whole reason you enlisted in the first place was to get funding and inspiration for your painting. You must have been so angry to have that taken away from you."

Mark smiled and shook his head. "I've switched to sculpting. It satisfies my creative streak, and I like being able to feel the work take shape. Losing my sight reminded me I'm more than just my painting, just like you are more than just your job. "

"Are you quite done with the interrogation?" Alex scolded Bobby gently, linking her arm through his and nudging him with her shoulder. "You have an amazing attitude, Mark."

"Well, my misfortunes have made me a better, stronger person." Mark's pointed chin jutted out proudly. "I'm thankful for that. The same can be said for your man here. The stories he could tell you if he hasn't already. Bobby's been through a bit of hell himself, and he's come out the other side. The only difference between us is that my scars are visible. Bobby's scars are on the inside, where people can't see them. He doesn't receive the benefits of compassion and empathy like I do."

Bobby shook his head vehemently. "What I've been though pales in comparison to the challenges you've had to overcome, Mark."

Mark smiled, cocking his head in Alex's direction. "Still doesn't give himself any credit, does he?"

"None at all," Alex confirmed, smiling up at Bobby as she squeezed his arm with hers.

"You know, Alexandra, your . . . partner was somewhat of a legend in CID. Best solve rate of any of the detectives. Put some guys with three times his field experience to shame on cases the brass had deemed unsolvable. I hazard to say he was a bit of a genius."

"He still is." The wink and warm smile she sent in his direction made Bobby's heart flutter.

The lights in the lobby flicked off and then back on again twice, signaling that the curtain was about to go up again.

"Looks like Act Two is about to start. We'd better get back in." Bobby swallowed the last mouthful of his wine and set the empty glass on a passing tray. "Can I help you get back to your seat, Mark?"

"Nope, I will be just fine, thanks though." Reaching into his pocket, Mark pulled out a business card and handed it to Bobby. "Let's meet up again soon, have a beer. Lots of catching up to do."

"Sounds like a plan." Bobby clapped a friendly hand on Mark's shoulder before pulling him in for a hug. "It's great to connect with you again."

When they separated, Mark turned his empty gaze back to Alex. "It was a pleasure to meet you, Alexandra. I'm sure I'll be seeing you around."

"Pleasure was mine, Mark, and I hope so."

They had almost made it to the theatre door when Mark called out Bobby's name again and motioned him back over. He waved Alex into the theatre before trotting back over to his old friend.

"This Alexandra, she's a looker, isn't she?" Mark's grin lit up his entire face as he tapped his cane against the toe of one of his shiny dress shoes.

Bobby chuckled lightly. "Yeah, but she's a heck of a lot more than that."

"You talk differently when you're around her." Mark cocked his head to the side thoughtfully. "You've always been a soft-spoken guy, but when you talk to her, your voice gets even gentler."

"She's very . . . important to me," Bobby said carefully, glancing back in the direction that Alex had disappeared.

_Now if only you could tell her that. _

"Besides painting, I think that's what I miss the most about being blind. Seeing all the beautiful women." Mark hesitated for a moment, as if weighing his words. "You know, a woman like that, she wouldn't be here with you if she didn't want to be. A woman like Alexandra has options. Whatever pedestal you've put her up on, I guarantee she's put you up on the same one. And not because of what you do for a living. You'd be wise to remember that."

* * *

The lights had just gone down when Bobby snuck back into the theatre and found the appropriate aisle. He felt lighter somehow, buoyed by the words of his old friend, and even in the dark far fewer toes were crunched under his feet as he maneuvered back to his seat.

"I know I've asked this a million times today, but are you okay?" Alex murmured quietly as Bobby slipped into his seat beside her and an anticipatory hush fell over the theatre. "Must have been difficult to see Mark like that."

"It was, but it was good. It made me appreciate some things."

As the curtain went up, Bobby drew on all his courage and slipped a hand onto Alex's thigh just above her knee. Her tights were soft and her thigh firm. The contact sent an electric impulse through his skin and made the hair on his arm stand on end. Leaning over, he placed a gentle kiss just below her ear as the orchestra pit came alive with the first few notes of the second act's opening number.

The catch in her breath as she turned into the contact stabilized his newfound courage and he was finally able to whisper the words that had been on his mind. "You look beautiful tonight."

As the actors took the stage, Alex smiled and rested her head on his shoulder, threading her arm through his.

Now it was two things right out of a million, which at that moment was good enough for him.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10 – The View from Up Here**

The pain was brutally fresh that day.

In the interminable hours following Joe's funeral, her existence had been reduced to a blur of sympathetic faces and gentle voices insisting that in time it would get easier. An inconceivable concept at first, but the voices had not deceived her. Eventually the agony of his loss had stopped exuding from her pores and faded to a dull, ruthless ache that skulked in a dark corner of her soul.

The voices _hadn't_ warned her it could flare up again. They hadn't cautioned her about the ease with which the agony could return in full force, snarling and clawing at her heart. All it took was a song on the radio or a whiff of familiar cologne and the pain could knock her down and hold her head under until she sucked it into her soul with every breath. When it finally ebbed, it left the same question imprinted on the surface of her heart every time.

_Why?_

Not why had Joe been shot - that answer she had arrived at seconds after she found his Captain at her front door, hat in hand. She was all too familiar with the twisted mechanics of drugs, money, greed, and desperation. No, this was a question not even the shooter could answer, a question directed at a much higher power.

_If any such power existed. _

Why had Joe been allowed to die? Why had the God he prayed to religiously turned his back in Joe's hour of need? How could he possibly permit the ugly imbalance that occurred when an innocent man, woman, or child died while the corrupt and merciless gloried in wealth and perfect health?

How could he allow faith to be commandeered by evil for its own purposes, time after time?

There was only one possible explanation. He didn't stop it because he didn't exist.

"Alex . . . Hey . . . Earth to Alex."

A gentle touch on her forearm suddenly penetrated the fog that had settled over Alex's eyes and disconnected her from reality. She turned automatically toward the contact, blinking rapidly until the white blur before her came into focus, revealing her friend Violet. She was startled to find herself hovering on the outskirts of the dance floor, gazing blindly at the guests laughing and spinning under the disco ball. She had no recollection of arriving there, and the fairytale quality of the surrounding scene did nothing to help her get her bearings. White and silver coated every possible surface in the reception hall, from the canopies dangling from the rafters to the silver sashes that sliced across the blanched chair covers. Clusters of white and silver candles flickered meekly on each table to compensate for the dimmed overhead lights.

"Violet!" Alex shook her head to eliminate the cobwebs before managing a faltering smile. "I didn't see you standing there."

"No kidding." Her friend grinned cheerfully as she pulled Alex into a tight hug, her wedding dress bunching between them. "I'm pretty sure you were looking right through me."

"I probably was," Alex admitted sheepishly, clasping Violet's well-manicured hands between them. "I was completely lost in my own thoughts for a second. Sorry."

_For a second? Liar. You've been lost in thought for days now. Thinking about Joe. Thinking about Bobby._

"I'm so glad you could make it. It means a lot to me." Violet ran a hand absently over the sequined bodice of her gown, green eyes sparkling. "Are you enjoying yourself?"

Fiddling with the corsage around her wrist, Alex nodded quickly. "Absolutely. The ceremony was beautiful. Congratulations."

_Another lie. You would be hard pressed to remember a single thing about the ceremony. You were too busy imposing images of your own wedding over hers._

"Thanks." Violet's gaze flicked across the room to her new husband, her contented smile stoking the open wounds in Alex's heart. She remembered vividly experiencing the same excitement on her special day. Joe's smile had promised her a forever that would never come to fruition.

"It was good to see you in the church again. It's been quite a while." Violet's Brooklyn drawl brought Alex abruptly back to the present.

_Here we go. The guilt trip. The reason you have been avoiding your church friends since Joe died._

Alex forced a layer of buoyancy over the bitterness that smoldered at the perceived reproach. "Yeah, I'm sorry I haven't kept in touch. I've been really busy at work, keeping some pretty odd hours. And church was always more of Joe's thing than mine to be honest."

_Excuses, excuses._

As the DJ switched from classic rock to a slow ballad, couples seized the dance floor, clutching each other under the rotating pinpricks of light. The diamonds in Violet's wedding band glinted as she adjusted her veil and nodded carefully.

"It helped though, didn't it? I know it did for Joe. He always said his belief that endless bounties awaited us in Heaven made it easier for him to swallow the loss of innocent life."

_Fat lot of good that devotion did him._

Forcing back the slew of sarcastic comments that trampled the tip of her tongue, Alex forced a smile that she hoped looked regretful.

"I'm afraid my work has turned me away from God instead of to him, especially since I joined Major Case. The things that I've seen . . ." Alex trailed off with a shake of her head. ". . . well, let's just say that any all powerful being who truly cared for us would never allow terrible things to happen to good people. Yet time and time again, they do."

Violet nodded slowly, her nails picking at the lace that adorned the swell of her dress. "I'm not sure God exists to make the world make sense, or even to make it fair. At least not right away. I believe that He allows things to happen for reasons that eventually become clear, and that in the end the pure of heart are rewarded, either in heaven or on earth. I believe there's a reason Joe was taken and that he's being rewarded in heaven as we speak."

Alex's voice was thick with sharp edges. "I guess my reward must be in heaven too then, because I sure haven't received any reward here on earth."

The unspoken compassion that etched lines into her friend's face brought hot tears to Alex's eyes. She reflexively blinked them back, inhaling deeply and exhaling slowly. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to get all heavy on you here at your wedding."

"Please don't apologize." Violet touched her forearm lightly. "I understand. I've missed our Sunday post-sermon luncheons and theological discussions. Todd does too. I would like to see them start up again."

Alex smiled sadly, the tension in her voice dissipating. "I've missed them too. I'm not sure it would be the same without Joe there though."

"No, it wouldn't be the same, but that doesn't mean it would be bad." Violet adjusted her skirt and waved at someone on the dance floor. "Maybe you could bring your date. Where is Bobby anyway?"

"Over there." Alex nodded in the direction of the children's table, where Bobby was perched comically on a tiny chair, his knees nearly up to his ears. A clump of children surrounded him, all agog as he entertained them with a magic trick. As if sensing her eyes on him, he looked up and met her gaze, flashing one of his rare, broad smiles that made her knees weak.

"I was happy to see that you came with someone today." Violet's eyes remained on Bobby even as Alex averted hers. "He seems nice, and he's very handsome."

"Yeah, he's great," Alex agreed quickly, tugging at her necklace. Talking about Bobby with someone who had been close to Joe made her stomach clench uncomfortably. The two men had never occupied the same time and space in her life and, each time they collided in the present, it felt wrong somehow.

"I think Joe would like him."

Alex's eyes moistened again as she barked out a laugh. "I'm not sure about that. They are complete opposites in a lot of ways. Joe was an extrovert, Bobby is an introvert. Joe was into sports, Bobby's quite content spending his time off curled up with a book. Joe was into action movies, and Bobby prefers foreign films. I'm just getting started."

"Sure, they're different, but I've seen the way Bobby looks at you. It's obvious he thinks the world of you." Violet twisted her wedding ring around on her finger and Alex remembered with another jolt of pain how odd her own wedding ring had felt at first. "That's what Joe would want for you. He would want you to be happy, well cared for, and loved."

Alex's throat closed over and she dug her nails into her palm to convert the unbearable emotional pain into something more physical and manageable. Her attempts to form words failed, and in the end she settled for an unconvincing nod.

"Well, I'd better keep making the rounds." Violet reached out and squeezed Alex's shoulder. "Maybe I'll see you back in church sometime."

Alex's smile was light and without conviction. "Maybe. If I ever see that reward you speak of."

The corner of Violet's mouth curled up into a lopsided grin as she inclined her head meaningfully in the direction of the children's table. "Maybe it's not as far away as you think."

* * *

A set of beige French doors opened from the reception hall onto a flagstone patio that meandered out to the edge of an evergreen forest. The bitter late fall weather had corralled the other wedding guests inside and Alex shared the space with only a series of patio tables and their matching chairs. The icy air charred her lungs and made her teeth ache as she tried to untangle the toxic concoction of emotions that left her desperate to flee.

Grief was undoubtedly a piece of it. Commiserating with Darla on the sudden loss of her husband had ignited the grief, and her attendance at the wedding of their mutual friends had fueled it, but it was deeper than that. There was also a fine vein of guilt coursing through the fibers of her heart and a sense of unidentifiable fear that left her stomach quivering.

Bobby was complicating things.

She had never doubted that Joe would want her to be happy, nor harbored any illusion that she would never have feelings for another man after he was gone. She was too much of a realist for that. No, it wasn't the fact that she had feelings for Bobby that had been weighing heavily on her mind. It was the intensity of those feelings that left her with the sense of having betrayed the first man she had truly loved.

She hadn't bargained on having more powerful feelings for Bobby than she could ever remember having for Joe, feelings that would only get stronger.

When they first agreed to embark down this crazy path, she had felt a false sense of control. Bobby's insecurities and initial tentativeness had mercifully allowed her to move the relationship along slowly at her own pace. All that had changed in the last few weeks. He had begun taking more risks, putting himself out there, and slowly he had assumed her position in the driver's seat. His newfound confidence was simultaneously attractive and unnerving. She had the uncomfortable sense of approaching the apex of a rollercoaster. A few more feet, and she would find herself hurdling straight down, the pressure of gravity stealing the breath from her lungs.

If she thought she was in deep now, she hadn't seen anything yet.

The freefall would be terrifying in its own right, but it was what could await her at the end of the ride that frightened her the most. Unlocking her heart came with a price she wasn't sure she could pay again. It left her vulnerable, a state that she abhorred both personally and professionally. She had developed a hard shell to shield her from the trials of being a petite woman in a burly man's world. Joe had managed to crack the shell first, and after his death it had healed over. Now Bobby had managed to find a chink and pried it open, leaving her defenseless.

_But only if you let him. Don't forget that._

Of all the people to fall for, she picked Bobby. Another cop, and one who often acted with no regard for his own safety. A cop with a death wish, or at the very least no fear of death. It was an ugly combination that virtually guaranteed she would find herself alone again, enduring unbearable grief.

She couldn't allow that to happen. It was time to retake control over her heart.

She sensed Bobby's approach rather than saw or heard it. His sudden presence behind her stirred a pleasant anticipatory tingle that occurred every time he entered her personal hemisphere. Something she had never experienced with Joe.

_Another thing to feel guilty about._

"What are you doing out here? It's freezing."

Bobby ran his hand lightly down the back of her arm, his thumb lingering gently on her elbow. The simple touch made her quiver and clouded her resolve. His warmth was a cruel temptation, and she had to fight the urge to lean back against him and chase the chill from her bones.

_Don't get weak. You know what you have to do._

"Just getting some fresh air." Alex turned stiffly to face him, intentionally maintaining distance between them despite the pull of his body. His eyes were molten and he held a white rose between two fingers. He offered it to her shyly as she leaned back against the iron fence.

"Thanks." Accepting the offering, Alex lifted it to her nose robotically, but it was purely for show. The sweet scent didn't register in her spiraling mind.

"You should come back inside, before you catch a cold." Bobby's hands were red from the cold as he slipped them into his pants pockets. "The DJ is playing some good music. We could dance if you'd . . . uh . . . like."

"That's an old wives' tale. You can't catch a cold from being cold." Alex ignored the invitation to dance, turning back around to stare off into the looming forest. "You of all people, with your mental volumes of useless trivia, should know that."

She was being mean. She knew it, but it was the only way she could regain some control.

Bobby fell quiet before taking a few steps forward, his shoes scuffing on the flagstone. He rested his hands on her shoulders and began massaging them gently, his strong thumbs working the knots out of the deep tissue. It took everything she had not to moan in pleasure.

"What's the matter? You've been distant all . . . uh . . . day, and you're so tense."

It was suddenly extremely hard to think, and all Alex could manage was a brief shake of her head as she started to deflate under his skilled fingers.

"Why don't we . . . uh . . . get out of here?" Bobby lowered his lips to her shoulder and feathered a few light kisses around the straps of her dress. The feeling of his mouth on her skin set a slow fire burning low in her stomach. "Maybe go back to . . . uh . . . my place? Have a drink?"

_God, yes._

"Stop." Alex shrugged out from under Bobby's hands and pushed past him, avoiding his eyes. In the absence of his touch, the chill and tension set immediately back in, a fact that angered her for a reason she couldn't quite articulate. She directed the ensuing resentment toward him. "What the hell is going on with you, Bobby? You've gotten a little aggressive lately."

Confusion flashed in the depths of Bobby's expressive eyes as he rocked back on his heels. "I'm sorry. Am I being too . . . uh . . . forward?"

_No, not at all. If only you knew how much I wanted you. If only I could admit it._

"You could say that." Alex folded her arms over her chest defensively as a chill travelled the length of her spine. "Is it always this hot and cold with you?"

Bobby opened his mouth to respond several times before he finally found his voice. "I'm sorry, I just thought . . . uh . . . after the theatre . . ."

He had her there. She had been all over him when she dropped him off after the theatre the other week. They had made out in her car for an hour and she had still craved more. At one point they both ended up in the passenger seat, and it had been her that had hiked up her skirt and crawled over the console, not him. Even though all caressing had taken place through clothing, it had been without a doubt the hottest make out session she had ever experienced.

_Another thing to feel guilty about. _

If he had invited her up to his place after that, she would have gone without hesitation. What a difference a week could make. What a difference Joe made.

"I really don't get you, Bobby." Alex cupped her elbows, rocking back and forth to keep the blood from stalling in her veins.

"I'm sorry." Bobby's voice was soft and cautious. "I didn't mean to be pushy."

"Would you stop apologizing?" Alex snapped, running a hand through her hair as she paced back and forth. "You're always so damn sorry."

_Just get it over with. End it before he gets too close._

Bobby watched her pace, his eyes irritatingly steady. Her failure to get a rise out of him with rudeness was aggravating, and she had to draw a deep breath to calm herself, scratching the area between her eyes nervously.

"Look, Bobby, I'm not sure this is working."

Bobby slowly clasped his hands behind his back, his expression curious. The material of his suit jacket tugged across his broad shoulders. "Funny, everything seemed to be working fine until a few days ago. Is it something I did? Or said?"

"It's not always about you!" Alex exploded, her hands clenching into small fists. A few guests on the opposite side of the French doors glanced in their direction, and she counted backward from ten to try and relax. The last thing she needed was to make a scene. She was miserable enough as it was.

Bobby shifted his weight and glanced over his left shoulder at the gloomy forest. "No, you're right. It isn't about me this time, is it? It's about Joe."

Alex lifted her chin higher to compensate for her wobbly knees and damp eyes. "I don't want to talk about Joe."

Bobby wouldn't be deterred and he took a step toward her, body language intentionally neutral. "You miss him."

It wasn't a question, but she answered as if it was.

"Yes, I do. Every day. Is that a problem?"

He held up his hands in surrender, his voice soft and non-confrontational. "Of course not. I know I can't compete with Joe. I'm not trying to."

_Oh, but you are competing Bobby, and winning. That's the problem._

"I love him. I always will. He has a special place in my heart that no one else will ever touch. That's never going to change." She sounded defensive and fearful even to her own ears.

_Who are you trying to convince? Him or yourself?_

Bobby ran a thick hand lightly over his face. "I wouldn't want it to change. I respect both of you very much."

His placidity irritated her, and she rolled her eyes. "You never even knew Joe."

_Get mad at me, damn it._

Bobby tipped his head in acknowledgment of that fact. "No, but I know you. If you loved him, I have no doubt he was a hell of a guy."

Alex sagged as some of the anger siphoned from her veins, disarmed by his gentle approach. Her next attempt at a prickly comment came out feeble. "I said I don't want to talk about him. Drop it."

Bobby crossed the remaining distance between them, his tall frame dwarfing hers. She kept her eyes focused on his shoes, struggling to keep her emotions in check. The rose dangled from her fingertips like an unshed tear.

"Come here," he murmured finally, enveloping her into a hug. She considered fighting it but in the end had neither the strength nor the will, and she allowed herself to soften against him. Her body cheered at the warmth as she slipped her arms under his jacket and he stroked her hair lightly.

When they reluctantly drew apart, Bobby lifted her chin and forced her to look at him. "You don't always have to be strong you know."

Alex laughed, her voice cracking. "I really wish you would stop being so damn nice to me when I'm being such a complete bitch to you. It's irritating."

He chuckled lightly, dropping his finger from her chin and cramming his frozen hands back into his pockets. "So what do you want to do?"

Alex lowered herself slowly onto a patio chair, resting her elbows on her knees and her head in her hands. "I think I need some . . . time . . . and space . . . to think."

Bobby inhaled deeply and exhaled in a loud gust. "Okay."

Another flare of anger ignited at his ready acceptance of her request, but that fury extinguished almost instantly when she glanced at his face and realized that his words didn't line up with his feelings.

_Way to go. Now you've hurt him._

"I'm just confused right now," Alex continued hastily, gnawing on her lower lip. "It's not you. It's me."

Bobby chuckled again, but there was no humor in the sound this time. "I've heard that before. That means that it _is_ me, but you don't want to hurt my feelings."

When she opened her mouth to deny that claim, he held up his hand. "It doesn't matter. I won't pressure you. You set the pace. You want us to take eight giant steps back, we will."

_There you go. You've got your control back. Happy now?_

She wasn't.

"Thank you for understanding."

Leaning over, Bobby kissed the top of her head gently, his eyes bereft as he turned to leave. "Promise me you won't stay out here much longer. Old wives' tale or not. It's damn cold."

He had gripped the handle on the French door and was moving to open it when she found her voice again and felt compelled to offer a more thorough explanation. "I can't go through that again, Bobby. Losing someone like that. It nearly destroyed me."

Bobby didn't turn, bowing his head and staring at the ground instead as he nodded. "I get it. But if you don't risk anything, Alex, you risk even more."

The French door clicked softly as it closed behind him. In the quiet of the night, it sounded all too much like a stern reprimand.


	11. Chapter 11

_A/N – Thanks as always to my wonderful beta Murph who provided the voice of Liz for this chapter. Also thanks to all my reviewers and readers, you guys are the best!_

**Chapter 11 – Gone**

"Are you _sure_ you don't mind? It's Saturday night!"

The aging linoleum creaked beneath Alex's feet as she padded across the kitchen floor, cordless phone cradled awkwardly between shoulder and ear. The florescent light that lined the ceiling buzzed like a demented mosquito and cast unflinching white light down on the three dozen cupcakes cooling on a metal rack. Outside, an icy rain-snow mixture tapped against the window like a series of bony fingers. As if in response to the summons, the electric heater along the baseboards clicked to life.

"I'm positive. Really. You guys have fun." Cake batter was slowly congealing in the red mixing bowl tucked under her arm, and Alex swiped at it aggressively with a plastic spatula. "It's not like he's any trouble. He went down an hour ago and hasn't made a peep since."

"If you're sure . . ." Her sister Liz's tinny voice was nearly inaudible over the hum of conversation and the clink of plates and glasses on the other end of the phone. "Just having the chance to sit down for a nice dinner together was more than enough. We don't need to see a movie. I don't want to take advantage of you."

"Seriously, it's fine," Alex insisted, giving the batter a final stir before setting the bowl down on the counter of the kitchen island. To her right, a cupcake tin with fresh liners waited impatiently. "It'll give me a chance to finish up the cupcakes for the daycare bake sale tomorrow too."

"Another thing I'm going to owe you for. Thanks for contributing. You're the best, sis."

"Yeah, yeah," Alex mumbled dismissively, her eyes drifting toward the guest room where her nephew slept soundly. The rhythmic rise and fall of his breath resonated through the baby monitor on the counter behind her and sent a piercing pain of loss shooting through her chest.

_Stop it. It's just your biological clock acting up. _

"You really are." The crowd noise on Liz's end of the phone suddenly faded in the background and was replaced instead with the sharp click of high heel shoes on a hard floor. When she spoke next, her sister's voice echoed. "What's up with you the last few days? You've been pretty down on yourself."

"Nothing." Alex tried to keep her voice light and casual but a fine tremor of pain shook the words. "You know, just work. Bobby and I only wrapped up the paperwork on our last case this morning. I haven't had much sleep. Guess I'm just a bit tired."

_Liar. _

"All work and no play make Alex a dull girl," Liz chanted. The sound of running water confirmed Alex's suspicion that her sister had adjourned to the restroom. "A beautiful single woman like you should not be home alone babysitting my kid on a Saturday night. Where's your mystery man?"

The innocent question had the equivalent impact of a two-by-four straight to her gut and Alex found herself gripping the edge of the island, fingernails gouging the lacquered countertop.

_Bobby._

"I don't know."

"Uh oh." The faucet squealed as Liz twisted it off. "That doesn't sound promising."

The timer on the kitchen stove buzzed. Grateful for the distraction, Alex grabbed a plaid oven mitt and walked robotically over to the oven. The smell of freshly baked cupcakes did nothing to lift her spirits as she pulled out the tray.

"We decided to take a break."

"Oh."

The evident disappointment in that single syllable immediately put Alex's hackles up. She let the cupcake tin drop heavily onto the stove, wincing when the resulting clatter caused a hiccup in the steady breathing from the monitor. She kept her voice intentionally low as it evened out again.

"Don't start with me, Liz. I'm not in the mood for a lecture on my love life."

She visualized her sister shrugging on the other end of the phone. "I didn't say anything. I'm just confused. Last I heard you were really digging this mystery man."

Alex sighed, tossing the oven mitt onto the counter and resting both hands on the edge of the stove. The ceramic was hot against her palms. "I was."

_I am._

"So why the break? Was it his decision?"

A sudden blast of static made Alex cringe and jerk the phone away from her ear. "Where the hell are you?"

"I just stepped outside for a second so we could talk. It's windy out here." The reception cut out for a second as a gust of wind corroborated Liz's story and sent chips of ice pelting at the glass of the kitchen window. "Don't avoid the question."

Alex sighed again, her eyes absently watching the dust motes twirl in the light above the stovetop. "I'm not avoiding the question. I was the one who wanted the break. He's being respectful about it."

_Too respectful. He doesn't even seem to care. _

"Another one bites the dust huh?" Her sister's voice was slightly muted by the rush of wind over the mouthpiece.

Picking up the cupcake tin, Alex turned back to the island, shifting the metal racks to make room for the new addition. "Things were moving too fast. We were starting to get really serious after only a few months."

"And that's a bad thing?" There was a pause as Liz covered the mouthpiece and said something to someone on her end of the phone. When she came back on the line, her voice was soft. "I'm starting to worry about you, Alex. You haven't had a serious relationship since Joe. You're a beautiful woman, so I know you have options. I'm starting to think you might be sabotaging your relationships on purpose."

"That's not true," Alex snapped, swiping angrily at a dusting of flour that flecked her forearm.

_Isn't it? You could have fooled me. _

"You're not getting any younger, you know. You spend too much time working. How do you expect to meet someone with your schedule?"

"Thanks, Mom." Alex rolled her eyes as she scooped a blob of batter from the red mixing bowl and moved to dump it into one of the empty cupcake liners. She missed, cursing under her breath as it oozed over the side of the tin. "I tried this time, Liz, I really did. I just couldn't stop thinking about Joe. I miss him so much."

"Of course you do, and you always will." Liz coughed and had to clear her throat before she could continue. "Where's this coming from all of a sudden? You've dated men since Joe. You've slept with men since Joe. It's not like this is the first romantic relationship you've had since he passed."

"I know, but this time things felt . . . different. And it scared the shit out of me." Alex pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed as the grandfather clock in the living room toned on the hour. "I think I'm falling in love with him, Liz."

A volley of honking car horns delayed Liz's response by thirty seconds. "So why the heck did you break up with him? That makes no sense."

"Because I can't help feeling like I'm cheating on Joe, betraying his memory. Everything I'm experiencing with my mystery man is so intense. I'm starting to feel things with him that I never felt with Joe. It makes me feel so guilty, Liz. My head is too screwed up right now. It's not fair to either one of them."

Voice cracking, Alex swallowed a huge gob of emotion that threatened to suffocate her. Her hand started to tremble and she threw the spatula back into the mixing bowl contemptuously.

_Fuck. Pull yourself together. You're stronger than this._

"Why didn't you tell me about this earlier?" Liz's voice was gentle. "No wonder you've been so bummed lately."

"It's okay." Alex straightened and cracked her knuckles to steady the tremor in her hands. "I'm starting to think Joe was it for me. Maybe I'm not meant to be with anyone else."

There was silence on the other end of the line. For a moment she thought they had been disconnected until her sister spoke again.

"I miss Joe too, honey. He was a wonderful man who loved you dearly and came into your life for a reason. You two were great together, but I don't believe you're destined to be alone for the rest of your life now that he's gone. You will be though if you keep running away every time things get serious. We don't get to choose who we fall in love with, or if they will love us back, but when the stars align, we can choose what we do about it. Sounds like you're getting a second chance here with your mystery man."

"Yeah, a second chance to get my heart broken," Alex muttered, swiping at a smear of green icing with a damp dishcloth. "A second chance to lose the man I love."

"Yeah, you could," Liz stated matter-of-factly as the wind whistled across the mouthpiece. "But from the sound of things, you're already in pretty deep. Whether you decide to get more serious with this guy or not, I'm sensing you already would be pretty devastated if anything happened to him."

The possibility stole the breath from her lungs and set her knees quivering. A vision of Bobby in an ornate casket, strong hands folded on his broad chest, beautiful eyelashes brushing his cheeks, flashed unbidden into her mind and her legs folded beneath her. Placing her back to the island, Alex slowly slid down until she was sitting on the cool floor. Resting her chin on her knees, she forced herself to breathe deeply until the stars dancing in front of her eyes dissipated.

"Still there?" Liz's concern was palpable.

Alex slowly lifted her head, letting it bang back softly against the island as she wrapped her arms around her knees. "Yeah. Still here."

"I don't mean to preach, but you can't live your life trying to shield yourself from all pain or you're going to miss out. Staying miserable when you could have a second chance at love is definitely not what Joe would want."

Alex hadn't realized her eyes had filled until a solitary tear crawled down the side of her cheek. She wiped it away angrily on the shoulder of her T-shirt. "So what should I do, Liz? Just tell me what to do. Please."

A particularly violent gust of wind must have raced across the front of the restaurant because Alex struggled to make out her sister's final words before the reception completely cut out.

"I can't tell you what to do, sis. I only know that if you spend too much time worrying about making the right move, you won't make any move at all."

* * *

She sat there for a long time after she hung up the phone, back pressing stiffly against the island.

In the living room, each tick of the grandfather clock resonated like thunder. The faucet dripped rhythmically on the offbeat, each drop bursting when it collided with the basin. She hadn't turned the oven off. Its orange indicator light flicked on and off in reminder, but it wasn't enough to motivate her into action. On the other side of the island, the fridge hummed and sent vibrations through the floor. The linoleum was cool through the thin material of her baggy sweats and the muscles in her backside began to ache. The clock on the stove flipped through the minutes with agonizing sloth. Inside the curio cabinet, a photo of her and Joe at the beach smiled down on her.

_Tell me what to do, Joe. Please._

When he didn't answer, she lay her head down on her knees and sobbed for them both.

She allowed the emotion to last only for a few minutes, a controlled burn, before she straightened and wiped her eyes with her forearm. Her lungs ached from the temporary oxygen deprivation, but the scalding pain in her chest had subsided somewhat, leaving a weak tingle in its wake. In the guest room, her nephew continued to sleep soundly, oblivious to her emotional upheaval.

Whether she wanted to admit it to herself or not, her sister was right. She was already in over her head.

_You aren't falling in love with Bobby. You're already in love with Bobby. If you don't open yourself up to the experience, you will regret it for the rest of your life._

A knock on the front door startled her and she banged the back of her head against the island. Her legs rebelled as she used the counter to pull herself up, muscles rubbery. The carpet was welcomingly warm on her chilled feet as she padded into the living room, flipped the lock and pulled open the door, expecting to see her sister on the other side.

"Changed your mind about the mov-"

It was Bobby who greeted her with a smile.

He wore a long black trench coat over a pair of dark denim jeans. The mixed precipitation had dampened his thick curls and flecked the broad shoulders of his coat. His cheeks were flushed pink from the cold and his scarf snagged on the stubble that covered his chin.

"Hey." He looked sheepish as he stood in the doorway, bouncing slightly on the balls of his feet.

The sight of him, each tall, dark, and handsome inch, made Alex's heart throb desperately, and she suddenly felt painfully self conscious in her sloppy sweats. She had taken off her bra when she changed out of her work clothes and the cold was making that fact very obvious. She folded her arms over her chest in an attempt to hide it.

"Hey. What's up?"

Reaching into his pocket, Bobby pulled out a familiar cell phone. "I . . . uh . . . think you took my cell accidently when you left the precinct today. I've got yours."

"Come in for a second." Leaving the door open, Alex scanned the living room with a frown and located her purse. Sure enough, Bobby's cell was buried under her wallet. "Yep, guess I did. I must have been more tired than I thought. Sorry you had to make the trip."

Bobby shrugged as they traded devices. "It's no big deal. I was going out anyway."

_On a date?_

The question flirted with the tip of her tongue but she crammed it back down her throat even as her stomach recoiled painfully.

_Hey, you're the one who wanted this break. You have no right to be jealous._

But she was.

To distract herself from that unpleasant prospect, Alex flipped up the lid of her cell phone and was greeted by a familiar picture of her nephew. Tears pricked at her eyes before she could stop them. "This picture . . ."

"It's the one I erased accidently. I had the tech guys go back and retrieve it." Bobby avoided her eyes, tugging at his scarf to loosen it.

It took a colossal effort to steady her voice, but she managed it. "Thank you."

Bobby waved away the gratitude with a twitch of his lips that would barely have qualified as a smile. "Speaking of the little guy, he still here?"

"Yep." Alex nodded in the direction of the guest room. "Fast asleep. He's a good little sleeper."

"Your sister's lucky." Ever the bloodhound, Bobby lifted his nose and sniffed the air. "Smells great in here."

"Cupcakes. You want one?" Alex gratefully seized the opportunity to flee from the awkwardness into the kitchen. She caught sight of herself in the reflective door of the microwave as she walked past and grimaced. Her hair was scraped back into a bedraggled ponytail and wisps sprung out the sides like weeds. Her eyes were puffy from crying and she had a crusty smear of batter on her left cheek which she scrubbed at roughly with the palm of her hand.

_Great. You look like a train wreck._

Bobby followed her into the kitchen, his ever inquisitive eyes roaming over the counters as he slipped out of his damp overcoat and folded it over the back of one of the chairs. "Look at you. All . . . uh . . . domestic."

Alex laughed, the sound embarrassingly high pitched. "For my nephew's daycare bake sale tomorrow." She motioned to a cluster of cupcakes that stood apart from the rest, their green icing skewed and exteriors lumpy. "Take one of those. That's the misfit pile. The ones I can't send."

Bobby smiled as he selected one and eyed it from all angles. As he peeled away the wrapper, a blob of icing caught on his finger. As he lifted the finger to his mouth to suck it off, Alex had to snap her mouth closed to stop from drooling.

_You seriously need to get laid._

He polished off the cupcake in three big bites, wiping the crumbs off his fingers and into the sink as he swallowed the last mouthful. "Delicious. You've missed your calling."

She chuckled dryly. "Hardly. I could never bake another day in my life and I wouldn't miss it."

"Not like Blake and his chess." Bobby smiled lightly before his eyes grew serious. "What about being a cop?"

"What about it?"

He raised his eyebrows curiously. "If you could never be a cop again, would you . . . uh . . . miss it? If you were kept from doing what you are best at, do you think it would make you insane?"

Alex pondered that for a moment, readjusting the cupcakes on the cooling racks mindlessly. "No, I don't think so. I'm not sure what else I would do, but it wouldn't make me go crazy if I couldn't be a cop."

Bobby nodded sharply, his eyes watching her fingers as they fiddled with the cupcakes. Something on his face told her that he wouldn't say the same for himself.

"You're more than your job too, Bobby." Alex wiped her hands on her sweatpants, trying to surreptitiously adjust the waistband that had started to slip down low on her hips. "I mean it."

"Sure." Bobby's voice was soft and the quarter smile he flashed was hardly convincing. He looked at her for a moment before clearing his throat. "I've got a confession to make."

"What's that?"

He nodded in the direction of the cell that she had placed on the counter. "You didn't take my cell phone accidently. I switched them. I wanted an excuse to see you. I've missed spending time with you. Outside of . . . uh . . . work. I know we're supposed to be on a break. Sorry."

His frank admission elicited an automatic grimace of mutual pain, and Alex turned around, busying herself with placing the mixing bowl under a stream of hot water in the sink. When she finally turned around again, she had managed to arrange her face into a neutral mask but still hadn't come up with a suitable response.

When she didn't speak, Bobby continued, picking at an errant piece of icing that had hardened on the island countertop. "I also wanted to apologize for what happened in the poker room. Launching my portfolio at Brightbill and shoving him into the wall. I snapped. I know you had it under control and can take care of yourself. I know it pisses you off when I act like I have to protect you. I just . . . uh . . . didn't like him talking to you like that. I would have felt that way regardless of what was . . . is, I hope . . . happening between us. No one has the right to talk to you like that."

_Damn you, Bobby. Why do you always have to be so freaking sweet?_

"Bobby, this, our break, really isn't about you." Alex sighed, leaning her hip against the island as she watched him pick at the icing and avoid her eyes. "I know you don't believe me, but you did nothing wrong, nothing at all. This is all about me and my issues. You've been absolutely wonderful. You deserve better than me and the way I've been treating you."

Bobby shook his head and ran a hand over his chin thoughtfully. "I understand baggage, but I can't possibly imagine what you're going through. I've never lost a spouse." When he finally raised his eyes, they were full of a vulnerability that opened up into his very soul. "But there is no better than you and I would wait forever."

_Christ, here we go again with the waterworks._

"Bobby," Alex mumbled weakly, not sure what she wanted to say but feeling the last chunks of her resolve crumble and smash into a million pieces on the linoleum.

"Shh. Enough talking." Slipping his hand around the back of her neck, Bobby pulled her to him and kissed her. She offered no resistance, melting against him instead and giving herself over to the kiss with more abandon than ever before. His mouth was warm and soft and he tasted of cupcake. The stubble on his chin brushed against her skin and set her nerve endings on fire. She couldn't have gotten enough of him if she tried, and try she did, parting her lips and inviting him into her mouth.

An invitation he took up with enough relish to make her legs weak.

A snort from the baby monitor finally drew them apart. It took Alex a full minute to catch her breath. When her head finally stopped spinning, he was staring at her thoughtfully, head cocked to one side.

"I've figured it out.

Alex frowned, trying to keep up with him. "What?"

Bobby's dark eyes twinkled cheerfully. "Earlier I was trying to figure out what I could see you doing for a living if you weren't a cop. I've got it now."

"Oh yeah?" Alex folded her arms over her chest, the right corner of her mouth curling up into a half smile. "What's that?"

He tapped an index finger against his lips several times before winking. "You remind me of a Sunday School Teacher."

Bobby may have had good reflexes, but at that second hers were better. Before he could react, Alex had snagged two cupcakes from the misfit pile and smushed them in his face. Staggering backward, Bobby sputtered, clumps of vanilla cake and green icing falling from his face to the floor as Alex broke out into peals of laughter.

"I'm so going to get you for that." Bobby reached for her and she barely managed to avoid his grasp, turning tail to flee. She didn't get far before he caught her by the waistband of her sweats and dragged her back. When she tried to reach for another cupcake to defend herself, he wrapped his arms around her from behind, pinning her arms to her sides. She was laughing too hard to effectively mount an offensive, and all she could do was squirm in his arms as he leaned over and rubbed his face along her cheek, smearing the cupcake from his face all over hers.

They were too busy wrestling and laughing to hear the door open or the sound of footsteps in the foyer. It was only when their visitor cleared her throat nearby that they jumped apart guiltily as if struck by lightning.

Liz leaned in the entrance to the kitchen, arms folded over her chest, right eyebrow slightly elevated, and a smirk on her lips.

"Liz!" Alex took a step forward and swiped quickly at the cake on her cheek, succeeding only in smearing it up to her ear. "I didn't hear you come in. We were just . . . uh . . ."

_What were you doing? Whatever it was, it was about to lead to some pretty fantastic sex._

She looked at Bobby helplessly. His face was crimson around the clumps of cupcake and globs of icing and all he could manage was a shrug.

"I can see what you were doing," Liz said with a grin. "Sorry to interrupt. I knocked, but obviously you were busy."

Craning her neck, her sister glanced around Alex and smiled mischievously at her messy companion.

"The mystery man revealed. Hello, Bobby."


	12. Chapter 12

_A/N – This chapter is probably verging on an M rating. If that's not your thing, consider yourself warned :) _

**Chapter 12 - Collective**

"If I die, you'll be sad."

A light sprinkling of snow drifted aimlessly from the ceiling of gray clouds above, as if God had upended a salt shaker in the heavens. The wool of Bobby's toque irritated his scalp and he gouged at it impatiently as the line inched forward. The weak January sun had barely dipped below the horizon and already a bone-chilling cold stalked the steep ski hill, lurking in the shadows, biding its time until it could overpower the meager leftover warmth of the day. Bobby tugged the collar of his parka up to protect his neck, the inflatable canvas tube behind him nudging his heels.

"You aren't going to die. Don't be silly." Alex stood patiently beside him, the puffy arms of her jacket brushing against his. The cold had turned her cheeks a delicate shade of pink and tiny snowflakes glinted in her hair. "Little kids are going down this hill."

"Yeah, well, little kids don't break as easily," Bobby muttered, shifting his weight restlessly from left to right. At the crest of the tube run, two teenagers counted down from three before pushing off, gangly limbs dangling over the sides of their tubes. Bobby watched with trepidation as they got smaller and smaller the further they rocketed down the icy slope, coming to a halt only when they collided with the large barrier at the bottom.

"Don't be such a wimp." Tom stood in the opposite lane, bouncing on the balls of his feet to keep warm as he shot a toothy grin in his friend's direction. "You're just scared I'm gonna whoop your ass in front of your woman. No way. You're not getting out of this one, big guy."

The line moved again and Bobby swallowed hard as he watched the man and woman in front of them climb into their tubes and race down the hill. Halfway to the bottom, the man's tube ran too far up the sloped side of the lane and tipped over, sending him rolling down the rest of the chute in a shower of snow.

_Behold, your future!_

Alex must have felt him tense even through the thick layers of winter gear, because she threaded her arm through his and rested her head against him reassuringly. "It's perfectly safe. It's more risky for us to show up for work every day."

"It's the . . . uh . . . loss of control. The inability to manage the . . . uh . . . descent. It's too close to a free fall for my liking." Bobby dropped a kiss in her hair. "Safe or not, I would prefer to spend this cold winter night inside where it's warm, watching a movie."

"I know," Alex murmured comfortingly, patting his stomach through the thick padding of his parka. He was pleased to see the earrings he had given her for Christmas glittered in her ears. "But it was nice of Tom and Sue to invite us, so suck it up."

At the head of the lane, the young attendant motioned for Bobby to step forward. As he neared the crest of the hill, where the ground bowed into a gradual descent, he felt his stomach cram itself up into his throat.

_He was 10 all over again, standing at the top of the hill behind his elementary school. The frayed rope secured to the curve of his toboggan prickled his skin as he ran it between two fingers nervously. Frank and his friends stood behind him, their sleek racing sleds a stark contrast to his ancient wooden one._

"_C'mon, Bobby. Don't be such a baby." _

_Frank nudged him hard with his shoulder and he slipped a bit as he tried to keep his balance and avoid hurtling headfirst down the hill. His heart thundered in his ears and he prayed he wouldn't vomit all over the toes of his scuffed, hand-me-down boots. _

_Frank's posse circled him like a flock of vultures, chanting, poking, and shoving snow down the back of his coat. The peer pressure surrounding him hijacked all the oxygen in the brisk winter air. He stood frozen, staring down the hill, knees knocking. Torn between the need to please his brother and fear for his safety._

"_Pussy! Wimp! Bobby the baby!" _

_The vultures' heckling increased in intensity as he reluctantly maneuvered the toboggan in front of him. Anxiety constricted his throat as he envisioned the harrowing descent, the loss of control as gravity set back in._

_And then finally, fear won out over shame._

_He started to back up away from the hill, but Frank blocked his escape. His older brother pushed him hard with both hands as one of his crew conveniently stuck out his leg. Bobby tripped over the limb and fell, his face colliding with the curved loop of the toboggan. When he made it back up to his hands and knees, face flaming, drops of red blood stained the pure white snow._

"Hey." The pressure of Alex's hand on his arm transported Bobby back to the present. "You'll be fine, I promise. Do you trust me?"

_Only with my life._

"Of course." Sucking in a deep breath, Bobby positioned the tube in front of him. A chunk of snow had taken up residence inside the inflatable donut and he pitched it out before carefully lowering himself down into the canvas ring. His long legs jutted awkwardly over the sides as he wiggled around to get comfortable.

He had missed his chance to make Frank proud. He'd be damned if he'd let Alex down in the same way.

In the adjacent lane, Tom was also getting settled, tightening his scarf as Susan moved to stand behind him. "Prepare to eat my dust, Goren."

"We'll see about that." Alex's eyes gleamed with competitive energy as she placed her hands on Bobby's shoulders and squeezed lightly. Her whispered words were warm in his ear as the attendant began counting down from three. "Hang on."

At the word "Go", the ground began moving beneath him as Alex put her weight behind a push. The icy crest of the slope rose up before him and then dropped away as her hands slipped off his shoulders. His heart raced as the tube gradually began gaining speed and the wind tossed chips of loose ice in his face, forcing him to squint. He gripped the tube's rope as if it were a lifeline, his hands sweating inside his gloves. Adrenaline flooded his veins and the innate high of speed began to poke gaping holes in the fear.

A quick glance over his shoulder confirmed that Tom was slightly behind him but closing fast. His friend's face was contorted in concentration as he streamlined his body to minimize wind resistance. Bobby mimicked the position, flattening himself as best he could and burrowing deeper into the contours of the tube. The vessel responded with a burst of speed and the lights that lined the lane began to blur. The scrape of canvas on the rough, bumpy ice and the rush of the wind in his ears nearly deafened him.

The checkered finish line, painted across the lanes a few meters ahead, was approaching fast. Bobby felt a childlike sense of elation when he realized that Tom had fallen further behind.

This race was his.

_In your face, Frank._

When his tube crossed the finish line and the ground began to flatten, Bobby released the rope and raised his arms victoriously over his head, aiming a smirk over his shoulder in Tom's direction.

It wasn't like him to lose sight of important details, but he did.

He forgot that, a few yards away, a white wall of blocks stuffed with loose hay loomed, designed to slow down or stop the runaway tubes. They may as well have been filled with bricks because when he hit that line of defense, he hit it hard.

_Objects in motion want to stay in motion. Basic physics, Goren._

The tube stopped in its tracks, but Bobby didn't. The sudden impact jarred him from the cradle of the tube and sent him flying, cart wheeling head over heels until he crashed into the snowy earth several feet away.

* * *

"Remember what I said about hanging on?"

The gleaming wooden floor of the chalet creaked as Bobby stepped over the threshold, weakly kicking clumps of hard packed snow from his boots. The expansive and stylish building was blissfully warm and outdoor enthusiasts of all varieties had begun to amass inside for a break from the evening cold. Clusters of skiers, snowboarders, and sledders in brightly colored ski wear formed islands in the open concept room and it took several limping laps before the quartet found an unoccupied seating area beside the gas fireplace.

"I know, I know."

With Alex supporting some of his weight, Bobby gingerly lowered himself onto the forest green cushion of a wicker loveseat and stretched out his legs. The snow jammed under his collar had begun to melt and the back of his neck prickled as if jabbed with a thousand needles.

Lowering herself onto the loveseat beside him, Alex helped him shrug out of his dark blue parka and bulky sweater, the corners of her eyes creased with concern. "Where does it hurt?"

"My left shoulder mostly. It took the worst of the impact." Grimacing, Bobby rotated his wrists and ankles, flexed his fingers and toes, carefully bent his knees, and rotated his neck. He was relieved when each part performed as anticipated. Sore, but functional. "Nothing broken at least."

"You scared the life out of us." Susan stood at his side, pretty face pale. She offered a blue gel ice pack provided by the ski club, but when he reached out to accept it gratefully the movement sent a shooting pain through his shoulder. At his visible wince, Alex reached out and took it instead.

"Are you sure you don't want us to take you to the emergency room?" Pressing her fingertips gently on the back of his neck, Alex encouraged him to lean forward slightly on the loveseat. When she softly placed the frozen gel pack on his throbbing shoulder through his thin gray T-shirt, he shivered with gratitude. The ensuing numbness was a blessing.

"I'm fine. Just a little shaken."

"That was a hell of a wipeout, man." Tom shook his head in bewilderment as he and Susan sat down on the wicker sofa directly across from them. "I thought you were going to end up in traction!"

Bobby chuckled hoarsely and then winced. "It was worth it to beat your ass."

"Worth it or not, you're grounded for the rest of the evening. No more tubing for you." Reaching behind him, Alex tugged his T-shirt down where it had ridden up, exposing a strip of pale flesh. "I've had enough of your Evel Knievel act for one night, thank you very much."

"She says that now, but we both know that women get off on guys who do crazy shit like that." Tom grinned and winked at Bobby. "I'm pretty sure you're going to get some tonight, my friend."

Face burning, Bobby laughed uncomfortably, avoiding Alex's eyes by suddenly developing a complete fascination with the view outside the picture window to their right. "Yeah, maybe."

_Drop it, Tom. _

It was Alex who kept it going, a light smile on her face but a strain in her voice. "Yeah, and with that bum shoulder, we know who's going to have to do all the work."

Tom and Susan laughed at the dry comment obliviously, but Bobby felt the acute sting of the barb that lingered after each word.

_She's losing interest in you._

It was true. She had been doing all the work on their relationship lately, and he knew it. These last few weeks, they had been seriously flirting with the next step, that delicate, nerve wracking transition from a simple romantic relationship to a romantic sexual relationship. She had been quite clear about her desire to take that step; it was he who had sidestepped every advance to date with any excuse he could muster. With that comment however, he had the unsettling sense that his grace period was drawing to a close. Time was almost up.

_If only it wouldn't ruin everything . . . _

If the sudden awkwardness of the moment was lost on Tom, it wasn't on Susan. Reading the vibe in the room, her eyes flicked curiously back and forth between Bobby and Alex for a minute before she cleared her throat and picked up a discarded copy of the _New York_ _Times_ from the coffee table. A picture of Dorian Cavanaugh, his cuffed hands failing to block his face from the camera's glare, dominated the front page.

"Hey, you guys made the news again. I didn't know you finally caught the guy from that weird club who killed the woman at Hotel New York."

Tom looked thoughtful for a moment before snapping his fingers. "I remember reading about that. It was some kind of crazy vampire cult thing, wasn't it?"

"Not a cult exactly." Grateful for the change of subject, Bobby ran his right hand through his cropped hair. "More of a club with some . . . uh . . . cultish practices. Based on some books from the 50's."

Tom chortled, slapping his knee. "Kind of like that Star Trek fan club you and I joined for a couple months back in the late 80's?"

Raising an eyebrow, Alex smirked lightly. "You were a member of a Star Trek fan club, Bobby? Do tell."

Bobby ducked his head and blushed furiously. "Only for a couple months."

Tom grinned shamelessly at his friend's embarrassment. "Don't worry, Alex, you haven't hitched your wagon to a complete nerd. We only joined because he was sweet on a girl who was a member. It worked, by the way. He totally scored. I didn't do too bad myself. Those women thought that I was God's gift. There were plenty that had a crush on our Bobby here too."

"No surprise." Alex smiled as she watched a cluster of parka clad skiers squeeze behind Susan and Tom's sofa. "The women in the little vampire club were drooling over him too."

Tom folded his arms over his chest and leaned back, the wicker crackling. "You sure do attract the weird ones, Bobby. It's probably that endearing social awkwardness that they can relate to." He nodded once deferentially in Alex's direction. "Present company excluded of course. You've definitely traded up with your Prom Queen here."

_Tell me about it. That's the problem. Now I'm hooked._

"That's not fair. He doesn't just attract the weird ones." Alex folded her legs up beside her on the loveseat, her knee pressing gently against his thigh. "I've seen beautiful, intelligent, successful women fawn all over him on many occasions."

"Sure, but the average length of my relationship with that type of woman was about three weeks. It was never me who ended it either. After that initial attraction dissipates, once they get to know the real me, they run for the hills." Bobby glanced back over his shoulder at Alex and held her eyes. "Let's just say I can completely understand how Dorian got drawn in by Purcell, why he gave her as much of himself as he did. It's hard to be a geeky man in a beautiful world."

Tom frowned and Bobby could almost hear his wheels turning. He was half expecting another embarrassing story to pop out of his friend's mouth when Tom bit his lip. "Hey, now I remember. He killed that girl in some kind of vampire sex coffin, didn't he?"

_Close enough._

Alex was the first to recover from the whiplash of the sudden change in conversational direction. "Yeah, something like that. It was meant to simulate erotic asphyxiation. Something to do with the books."

Tom leaned forward with an expectant grin, resting his elbows on his knees. "So you two sneak back into the evidence room and give it a test drive?"

This time, Alex's bitterness was anything but subtle.

"At this point, I'd take it any way I could get it!"

* * *

"Okay, so what the hell was _that_ all about?"

Propping his feet up on the sturdy coffee table, Tom draped an arm over the back of the white wicker sofa and stared at Bobby, eyes as focused as a laser sight. The two men sat alone in the corner of the chalet, the women having disappeared in search of a warm beverage. Alex's bitter retort had stunned all four of them into an extremely uncomfortable silence which was only broken when Susan remarked that she could use a coffee. Flushing bright red, Alex had stammered her agreement and nearly tripped over the leg of the couch in her hurry to escape.

"It's nothing." Sighing, Bobby gouged at his eyes with his thumbs. "She's just a little annoyed with me at the moment."

"A little?" Tom raised his eyebrows dubiously. "Based on that little Freudian slip, I'd say that's an understatement. You guys having trouble in the bedroom or something?"

"Not . . . uh . . . exactly." The pain in his shoulder had returned and Bobby grabbed the ice pack off the cushion where Alex had dropped it. "We actually haven't really . . . uh . . . made it to the bedroom yet."

Tom blinked a few times, brows furrowed. "Say that again?"

Bobby sighed, feeling a knot of tension form in his upper back. "We haven't had sex yet. The timing just hasn't been right. Now can we drop it?"

"The timing just hasn't been right?" Tom frowned impatiently, drumming his fingers on the arm of the sofa. "Bobby, it's not brain surgery, it's sex."

Bobby shook his head, dark eyes scanning the crowd to avoid his friend's incredulous gaze. "You make it sound so simple, but it's not."

Tom raised his eyebrows again. "Like hell it's not. Bobby, I know it's been a while for you, but trust me on this one. Things haven't changed since the last time you did it."

Bobby chuckled despite himself. "Yeah, I realize that. The mechanics may be the same but the . . . uh . . . act will be very different. Alex is so . . . special to me. My feelings for her are really . . . uh . . . strong. I've never been intimate with someone I feel so intensely about. That's a lot of pressure. What if I hurt her? What if it isn't any good for her?"

"Not surprisingly, you're over thinking things. Your feelings for Alex are going to make the sex way better, trust me."

Bobby shrugged, tossing the now lukewarm gel pack back onto the cushion beside him. "I'm not so sure about that. The way I feel when I'm with her is amazing. I can't imagine it getting any better. I just want to treasure that feeling for a while longer. Sex is easy to come by, cheap. This connection that we have, the way I feel about her, that isn't."

"Are you sure you didn't hit your head when you went flying off that tube?" Tom shook his head in astonishment. "Has it been that long for you that you've forgotten what sex feels like? Newsflash - it's pretty damn incredible and when it's between two people who love each other it's a beautiful thing. It will bring you and Alex even closer. It's the ultimate act of intimacy."

"Yeah, the key word is ultimate. You want to know another word for ultimate? Final." Bobby wagged his finger in Tom's direction. "I know exactly what will happen after Alex and I sleep together. It's what always happens. There's this build up to sex in every romantic relationship- sometimes it takes months, other times weeks, or days, or in some cases only hours. Then once it happens, there's nothing left to look forward to . . . nowhere for the . . . uh . . . relationship to grow. In the absence of growth, it dies. Not right away maybe, but over time. Things get dull, boring, and then the parties start looking outside the relationship to find the . . . passion again. The relationship either comes to a natural end or one or both of the parties refuse to let go and sex becomes a weapon. Either way, people get hurt. I've seen it over and over again in the cases at work. I've also experienced it . . . personally."

"Wow." Tom folded his hands in his lap. "That's a pretty pessimistic attitude. So essentially there's nothing left to look forward to in a relationship after sex."

"You say pessimist, I say realist." Bobby spread his hands in surrender. "My work has provided me a wealth of evidence to back it up."

Tom ran a hand over his chin thoughtfully. "I think I see what's going on now, what this is really about. You're worried your relationship with Alex is going to turn out like your parents' dysfunctional relationship. That's not a given, Bobby. It's only going to happen if you let it."

His friend's astute insightfulness caught Bobby by surprise and he fumbled for a response. "All I know is…is that Alex is very important to me. I don't want to do anything to mess that up. As soon as I take her to bed, it will be . . . all downhill . . . from there. I'm not in any hurry for the beginning of the end."

"It's your funeral." Tom shrugged, grabbing the newspaper off the table and shaking it out to the sports section. "Just keep in mind that if you're not careful with this Ice King act, you may bring about the same end you're trying to avoid."

* * *

When she didn't say a word the entire drive home, he knew he was in trouble.

The night sky, thick with cloud cover, had unleashed an energetic snow flurry almost immediately following their exit from the chalet. Visibility on the slick residential streets was near zero and Bobby had to keep both hands on the wheel and his speed well below the limit in deference to winter's wrath. He was only able to cast occasional glances at the passenger who sat motionless beside him, head resting against the seat. The torrent of snow outside cast a ghostly glow that threw shadows across Alex's cheeks.

When they arrived at her place safely and she leaned across the console to kiss him, it was perfunctory. "Be careful driving home. It's getting slippery."

_No invitation in this time. Not a good sign._

"I will." Clearing his throat, Bobby shifted nervously in his seat, hands twisting together. He opened his mouth as if to say something and then snapped it shut when no words came.

In the silence, she released a barely audible sigh, and he knew instinctively that he had just failed yet another test. "If you wait here a second, I'll run in and grab those books for you."

_It's your funeral._

"No, I'll come up and get them," Bobby insisted. He reached over to unbuckle his seatbelt, stopping only when her hand covered his.

"It's okay, really. I know you're sore. I'll be right back."

"I . . . uh . . . feel better when I move around."

He was halfway out of the car before she could protest any further, his boots crunching on the fresh, crystalline powder. When she joined him, her expression was inscrutable but mild. Snow had begun to accumulate on the black railings that led up the stairs to the front door and Bobby absently brushed it off as he climbed up the concrete steps behind her.

_Don't mess this up, Goren. Proceed with caution._

She had left a light on in the living room and its warm glow welcomed them as they stepped into the tiled foyer. Her keys jingled as she tossed them on the side table, kicked off her boots, and shrugged out of her ski jacket. He lingered in the entranceway as she disappeared from sight into the study, returning a moment later with three tattered paperbacks_._

"Thanks for lending these to me. I really liked them."

Bobby nodded mutely, accepting the novels with a slightly trembling hand. A line of sweat formed along his forehead despite the perfectly comfortable temperature in the room. He felt stiff, stilted, robotic, uncertain, paralyzed and frustrated.

_Come on, Goren. You're hardly a virgin. You've seduced women before._

But with Alex, it was different. With Alex, he was a fumbling, awkward teenager with no clue how to round third base and make it home safely. And that frustrated the hell out of him.

"I'm sorry if I embarrassed you in front of your friends." Alex's voice was gentle and genuinely remorseful, her face softer now than it had been in the car. Her skin glowed despite minimal makeup and he was again humbly reminded of her natural beauty. "Bad case of foot-in-mouth disease. It just popped out, and I'm sorry. Our sex life is no one's business but ours."

"You mean lack of a sex life." The corner of Bobby's mouth twitched up into a sheepish smile. "Don't apologize, I deserved the snarky comment. You've been clear about your intentions, and I haven't even been respectful enough to acknowledge that. That's not fair to you. I'm the one who should be sorry."

"How about we call it even then?" Alex took a step closer, biting her lower lip as she slid her hands up and under his parka. With her help, he slid it down and off his arms until it pooled on the floor by his feet. He had taken his sweater off in the car and he could feel the heat of her hand through his thin T shirt as she slid it over his chest, stopping just before it made contact with his bruised shoulder. "How much does it hurt right now?"

His voice cracked when he tried to speak and it took a hard cough to get his vocal cords working again. "Uh . . . yeah."

_That wasn't the question, you idiot._

"I broke my promise. I told you that it would be safe and that you wouldn't get hurt. Obviously I was wrong." Alex's eyes were hungry as she let her hand trail down his chest and over his abdomen, eventually coming to rest on the waistband of his jeans. "I wish you would let me make it up to you, in whatever way you want."

_Oh Jesus. _

His voice was raspy and strained as his ability to form a coherent thought abandoned him. "Uh . . . Alex . . ."

And then her hand slipped down off the waist of his jeans and touched him skillfully.

Stars danced in front of his eyes and he gasped at the intense sensation of just that simple touch. He was only vaguely aware of the sound of the books hitting the tiled foyer floor as his eyes fluttered shut and one of his hands snaked out and wrapped around her wrist, pulling her hand away.

_Breathe, Goren, before you embarrass yourself._

When he was finally confident he had his body under control, he opened his eyes and looked directly into hers. They were filled with uncertainty and rimmed with defeat.

"Don't you want me?" The question was mild, devoid of self-pity, laced only with resignation and curiosity.

"Don't I want you?" Bobby chuckled sardonically, still struggling to steady his erratic breathing. Gently, he moved her hand back over to where his erection strained painfully against the denim of his jeans. "What do you think? And for the record, there is definitely no extra padding down there. That's one hundred percent me."

"I stand corrected." Alex's voice was barely a whisper and her obvious desire stoked his own.

Covering her hand with his, Bobby silently showed her how to stroke him the way he liked. Even through the denim of his jeans, it felt unbelievably incredible. His jaw slackened and a groan rumbled in his chest as he released her wrist and gripped the back of the sofa to keep steady.

_Maybe Tom was right after all . . . _

When she tilted her head up to him, he kissed her. From there, it was the sensation from the ski hill all over again. Starting off slow, but accelerating quickly. Kisses progressing from sensual to demanding, hands from caressing to groping. Heavy breathing, fumbling. Someone knocked over a lamp. Bobby stubbed his toe, Alex banged her elbow, neither of them cared. They stumbled onto the couch, the screaming pain in Bobby's shoulder lost in a fog of adrenaline and testosterone.

A decorative statute fell to the carpet, knocked off the table by Alex's carelessly launched sweater. As Bobby's dexterous fingers expertly tackled the hooks on the back of her bra, she unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans, pushing them down. He groaned in relief as the suffocating pressure finally abated.

"I'm going to be quick," Bobby muttered roughly, his fingers tugging at the second of three sets of hooks.

"Perfect, because so am I," Alex panted, arching her back to give his hand more room at the same time as lifting her hips to squirm out of her yoga pants.

And then a cell phone rang.

They automatically froze for a second as their brains recognized, categorized, and cursed the sound.

"Ignore it," Bobby murmured, lowering his mouth to kiss the sensitive area beneath her ear. It was a halfhearted gesture, the heat and urgency of the moment doused, some doubts setting back in.

"It's your phone." Alex placed a gentle hand on his good shoulder and cupped his face with the other. "You should answer it. You said your mom wasn't having a good day today. It might be Carmel Ridge."

Swearing, Bobby reluctantly slipped off the sofa, readjusting himself and hiking his jeans back up onto his hips as he stalked over to where his coat lay abandoned on the floor. Rooting around in the zippered pocket, he fished out his phone and glared at the display.

"Shit. It's Deakins."

Duty called.


End file.
